


Slutty Bee

by BelovedShadow2217



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007), Transformers: Prime
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alpha/Omega, Bee is a slut, Comfort, Dom Bumblebee, Dom/sub, Double Penetration in One Hole, Drama & Romance, First Time, Gang Rape, Hurt/Comfort, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mental Coercion, Multi, Older Man/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Possession, Romance, Self-Indulgent, Sentinel being an ass, Sex, Shower Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Threesome - M/M/M, Were-Creatures, animal mating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2018-12-15 22:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 175,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11815812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelovedShadow2217/pseuds/BelovedShadow2217
Summary: This is what happens when you can't find enough fics about a popular minibot getting it on with other bots. Be sure you read the first chapter and send my your ideas, plz! :D





	1. Welcome!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sugadoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugadoe/gifts), [jisko2ijsko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jisko2ijsko/gifts), [tfamonk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfamonk/gifts), [JazzTheTiger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzTheTiger/gifts), [KittyKatShMeow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyKatShMeow/gifts), [EmilieChan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilieChan/gifts), [Sakiporkbun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakiporkbun/gifts), [Wolfsonic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsonic/gifts).



**_Slight revisions are in bold:_ ** **_October 21, 2017_ **

Hello and welcome to my new fic “Slutty Bee”! I know, I know! Some of you might be thinking "What is this?" I should be working on my fic "Nightmare". I have so many other stories I either need to finish or work on or even rewrite. I should not be doing yet ANOTHER fic! So why am I doing this?

Because in the end I love writing and this idea just _will not_ leave me alone.

Hello readers! As you may be able to tell, I lured you here with my clever title for one simple and selfish reason: I want to write about our favorite minibot going at it worse than a rabbit at the peak of mating season with every bot I can think of from the world Transformers: Animated!

Why? Why not! I cannot be the only one who scrolls here for a good and smutty bit of fiction every now and then! (... I'm not, right? ...) But I need your help in this matter.

**_I need ideas!!!!_ **

Either as a review or a PM, send me your plot ideas! Who do you want to see Bee hook up with? What kind of story do you want? Would you rather read Bee being submissive or dominate? Tell me!! Just follow this quick "survey" and send it my way:

  * Who do you want Bee to interface with? (i.e. Optimus, Prowl, Sentinel, Wasp, etc.)
  * What kind of plot do you want to read? (i.e. slave, prisoner, boot camp, comedic, hurt/comfort, etc.)
  * Should Bee have his seals? (Do I really need to explain this?)
  * Do you want Bee to be submissive or dominate? (Have only read one fic with Bee calling the shots--damn good too)
  * I'm a pretty open-minded person, but before you start sending my requests like crazy I would like to point out a few rules. Call me picky but that's how I roll:


  1. The bots in question MUST come from the Transformers: Animated universe. I'll even settle for some bot from the Generation 1 universe or Shattered Glass or even in the movie-verse but I don't want any bot from Prime or RID or any of the other knock-offs. Reason being I do not watch those series, and I would feel much more comfortable writing about characters I already know.
  2. **Revision: the characters can come from any part of the Transformers universe, but if you want say TF G1 verion Bee paired up with I dunno… TF Prime version Knockout, please tell me so I can use the correct character.**
  3. The stories in question will be one-shots. Now when I write, I tend to go overboard. One such chapter of an old fic of mine ended up being almost 30 pages long so it had to be cut in half. But if you request something, and then you want to continue it under your penname, by all means yes! Just tell me so I can read it! ****
  4. **Revision: I’m a review whore (slut?) so if you enjoy the one-shot, please let me know. Sure I write for fun but I really want to know if you [the reader] are enjoying them as well. If you think I need to fix something or try something different then tell me.**
  5. If you want me to write say Bee and Prowl enjoying their human forms, I'm alright with that; but I will not write human Bee as a child. If anyone requests human Bee he will be a teenager. I do not write stuff like that so don't ask. ****
  6. **Revision: Just to clarify, I will write about human/holoform Transformers, but their forms will be teenager/adult ages. Just thought I’d clear this up in case anyone was confused.**
  7. First come, first serve. Just like it says if you request something then I will write it and go down the list. Also, I work irregular hours so please give me a chance to finish a story before asking me when I'll get to yours. My inspiration tends to come and go so bear with me. ****
  8. **Revision: If I don’t write your requet up, it doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it. It more than likely means I lost it for whatever reason. Sorry! Go ahead and repost it and I’ll get to it! Promise!**
  9. You can request as many chapters as you want! Really no limit! However, each request must be submitted separately. Don't try to crap five requests in one review/PM. if you do so I'll just pick one I like out of the bunch and ignore the others. I want everyone to have a fair and equal chance.



That's it! Now again I bet many, if not all, are wondering why am I doing this. What do I get outta it. Want me to be honest? (whispers) I get a kick outta the reviews I get. I write for my own enjoyment, I also do epic RPGs with my best friends online, and, well... (rubs back of neck) Bumblebee is a damn popular character, and I wanna give this a shot. it may sink, it may swim. At least I'll have tried.

Oh before I forget! Depending on how explicit you want the chapters to be, I cannot post NC17 stuff here. I really wish I could but I got banned and lost everything for some of my older stuff a long time ago. Sure, there is explicit stuff all over but someone seems to be targeting me so I'm sorry. So I'll still give you a one-shot with your desired plot, but the smut will be posted on my AO3 account.

So if you're still here with me, start sending me your requests! I can't wait to read what you're ideas are and I hope, if there are any, that I can make them worth reading.

G'nite!

Title:

Pairing:

Requested:


	2. Optimus PrimexBumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus has a nightmare and begins to have self-doubts about his leadership skills. Bumblebee offers him emotional support and tries to help his boss bot as much as he can.
> 
> Requested by BeloevedShadow2217 (That's me!)

Title: Comfort and Regrets

Pairing: Optimus PrimexBumblebee

Requested: Myself

_His optics were wide as he watched her fall, his grappling line having just barely missed her arm, and even so he struggled to reach her as she disappeared into the darkness, her screams echoing in his audio receivers. He couldn’t accept she was gone and tried to force himself to go in after the femme but his joints were locked in place, his fuel pumps stalling._

_‘Move! You can still save her!’ he shouted to his processor, forcing his system to reboot it felt like he was in full stasis. However, the area began to chance. God was the strange beauty of the organic planet, a strange fog rolling in, blanketing the ground; he could no longer see the hole or his own servos._

_“S-Sentin-nel?” he called out, his vocalization filled with static but he realized with an icy cold sense of dread that he was alone. He gasped and felt his vents rapidly cycle air, lunging up onto his peds. He barely realized that he could move but as he looked around he blinked, optics shuttering repeatedly. He was no longer on Archa Seven; he was now standing in the streets of Detroit._

_“You left me behind,” an angered voice hissed, the sound of something large moving through the fog._

_Optimus whirled, frowning but he recognized the voice. “Elita… please, I didn’t know!” he called out. “Just talk with me! Let me tell you what happened!”_

_“I’m tired of talking to someone like you!” Another loud hiss as the large frame snuck up behind him and moving swiftly, struck him in the back with a pair of stingers. The Prime cried out in pain, falling to the ground but he could feel his system about to enter shut-down mode. He looked up at the fembot as she loomed over him, struggling to stay online. “E-Elit-ta-”_

_“Elita’s dead, no thanks to you!” she screamed at him, reaching down she tore through his chassis, reaching in until she found his spark casting and gave him a cruel, cold smile. “I’m Blackarachnia, and you’re done for.”_

_“Noo!!!!”_ The mech bolted upright from his berth, frame trembling his servos shot up, grabbing at his chassis only to realize he was still in one piece. It had been a terrible nightmare but it had felt so real… the unfortunate part was the fembot was right. His best friend elita-1 was dead because of him, and now she was back under a new frame and designation. And she wanted him dead.

Swinging his stabilizers to the side he continued to sit on his berth, letting his system ran a scan to make sure everything was in working order, feeling his racing fuel pumps begin to slow. He still couldn’t believe she had survived, but would it have made a difference? If he had gone in after all her, could he have saved her? Did she really think he left her there to die? His processor was beginning to ache from the continuous questions running around like glitch mice in an oil drum when a soft knock of his door broke through.

“Boss bot? It’s me,” came the soft and concerned voice of the team’s speedster. “Can I come in?”

He opened his lip components to order him back to his room, that he was fine but instead he gave his permission and listened as the door slid open, quiet footsteps entering before the door slid close. He didn’t say anything, didn’t look up but he heard him move closer and could hear the quiet hum of the minibot standing just off to the side.

“I, I heard you shouting. Everything alright?” Bumblebee asked quietly. It wasn’t like their leader to be shouting in the middle of the night, not when he was usually recharging. He didn’t say anything and he knew he should leave but he didn’t like the way he looked right now; if he reached out to touch him, would he react badly and throw him out? “You don’t have to tell me… but, I thought maybe, you wanted to talk about it?”

He shouldn’t be unloading his fears onto the scout, he was just a kid as he heard Ratchet call him time to time, and h didn’t take his duties seriously, but he really wanted to help and he was willing to listen. “I had a nightmare, that’s all,” he finally admitted but refused to look up at him. “It’s nothing, sorry I woke you up.”

“Oh. Was it about the spider lady?” Optimus looked at him with surprise clearly written all over his faceplates. Bee gave a slight shrug as he answered, “Sari told me once I was online.”

Figures. He cycled air through his vents deeply and slowly looked away, staring down at the wall across from him. “Yes… she, used to be someone I knew, a very long time ago…” It hurt, to think he had gone from two best friends in the universe to none. Even with his own team he was completely alone and he hated it. He was surprised when he heard movement and saw that the minibot was sitting next to him on the berth.

“What was she like?” he asked, giving him a small smile as he lightly kicked his peds back and forth.

“Why do you want to know?” Why was he trying to be nice? Shouldn’t he go back to his room and recharge some more? Why did he have to be the same color scheme as her?

“What could it hurt? Maybe talking about what she used to be will help you. And you don’t talk a lot about yourself so I was curious.” Least he was honest and Optimus found himself telling him about his past friendship with Sentinel long before he became a Prime, and of the femme Elita-1. He also told him of their illegal exploration of the organic planet and how in that same day, he lost the two bots close to his spark. He never realized he was venting or pacing his room as he continued in his long triad.

“Sentinel continues to blame me for everything, but he refuses to accept any responsibility! I should have said something, as soon as we saw those things I knew we should’ve left but all he cared about was finding the slagging warship! And he still blames me for Elita’s fate but I tried! We never should have been there and look at what it’s done!” He really wanted to hit something right now, frag he really wanted to punch Sentinel right in his olfactory and optical sensors right now and to the Pitt with the consequences! He didn’t realize he was so charged his cooling fans had kicked on in an effort to keep his system from overheating. But now that the dam was open all of his anger and frustration flowed right out of him, leaving him open to the shame and disappointment he had been hiding. “Maybe he’s right… I’m not worthy of being an Elite Guard.”

Bumblebee had stayed quiet the entire time, knowing that his leader needed to vent out some steam but he didn’t realize he had been bearing this load for a long time. Sure he got really annoyed when he got after him, but compared to Sentinel of all bots he was the best! “Optimus, c’mere.” He didn’t mean to order him but getting up on his knees he watched as he slowly came up to him before reaching out and resting his servos on his shoulder plates. At this height he was just slightly shorter than the Prime but he didn’t have to tilt his helm so far back to look him in the optics.

“First, don’t listen to a thing Sentinel says. He’s a blow-hard, and nothing seems to make him happy, and I’ve seen him talk down to everybot when he thinks no one’s listening. Slag, he even insulted Ultra Magnus!”

Sky blue optics blinked at that. “He did?”

“Yeah! I should know, I accidentally recorded him saying that and broadcast it all over the comm system while I was in boot camp.” It was embarrassing but he grinned when he heard the other bot chuckle. “But seriously, you have to stop being so hard on yourself. We make mistakes, and you showed you’re the bigger bot when you took the blame all on your own. Anybot else woulda thrown him to the hellhounds, and even now you coulda said something but you didn’t.

“Second, I’m sorry you lost your friends like that, it wasn’t right. But it always wasn’t right for spider-lady to not listen. If the three of you were great friends, wouldn’t she think you would have gone after her if you knew there was a chance she was still online?”

“But-” he wanted to argue you that maybe she downloaded a virus that corrupted her processor when she was turned into a techno-organic but stopped when Bumblebee placed a digit on his lip components, looking at him sternly.

“You got a big spark, boss bot. And I know you’re not gonna stop helping her, but I don’t want you to get hurt if she’s gonna take the time to really listen to you. And third, I don’t say it enough but I think you’re a great leader. No one else woulda given me—us a chance but you did. Even when we screw up, you’re making sure we don’t give up. So next time Sentinel acts like an aft, just ignore him. You’re the bigger bot, always will be.”

He never expected the minibot to be the one to set him straight, to get him out of wallowing in self-pity. He was silent even as he slowly reached up, taking his servo into his own, removing his digit from his mouth. He wanted to thank him for the pep talk, for believing in him when he didn’t, to say something. Instead he leaned down and before he could stop him, kissed him.

Large blue optics widen, energon rushing through his cables, plating heating up. Of all the things to happen tonight being kissed was certainly not one of them! But he wasn’t trying to get away, to push him off. Instead he let himself be kissed, squeezing the servo holding his own; his plating grew warmer as Optimus squeezed his servo back, his other coming up and wrapped around him, resting against his back strut. He couldn’t help but gasp as digits rubbed along a sensitive seam, mouth falling open but he did moan softly as a glossia darted inside for a taste.

He tasted sweet, like energon treats. Primus that brought back memories but he focused on what was happening right now. Swallowing his soft moans he continued tasting everything he could, sliding his glossia against his own it was his turn to moan when the felt the minibot begin to kiss him back, his servo tightening over the plating on his shoulder. He pulled him closer to his chassis, servo gripping his pelvic armor, feeling his engines rumbling in answer to his own. But as much as he was enjoying this he slowly pulled back. He dimly noted that his cooling fans were attempting to keep his core temperature under control, but he was embarrassed that he felt his cod piece was becoming a tad uncomfortable. Closing his optics he released the servo in his own and pulled the yellow bot close, just holding him as he struggled to regain his functions.

“I’m sorry, Bee… I-I don’t know what came over me,” he admitted softly.

“It’s okay,” came the soft response a few kliks after his own. The top of his helm was tucked under his leader’s chin, letting him hear the steady hum of his spark within his chassis. His own servos had wrapped themselves around him in a comforting embrace, but he was still warm. In fact, they both were and their temperature was only growing. “It’s okay,” he repeated, slowly pulling back, feeling the servos around him loosening but before they could pull away completely he slid his own around his neck cables, pulling him close and kissed him, pressing his frame against his intimately. “Let me help you, Optimus. Please.”

“Bee…” He never called him by the nickname, but he liked the way it felt on his glossia. He felt like he wasn’t in control of his functions as he watched the minibot pull back long enough to get comfortable on his berth before pulling him down so he was laying atop of him. He paused, wanting to protest that they shouldn’t be doing this, that he was afraid of hurting him, but all logic and reasoning were gone as he kissed him once more, engine purring softly, his felt his own responds and lost himself in his embrace.

His servos slowly stroked the speedster’s sides, listening to him moan at his touch, glossias stroking and rubbing against one another’s. He shuddered in delight as those nimble digits glided over his own frame, slipping into gaps to rub and caress sensitive wiring. Deciding to mimic what was being done he let his own digits slid over his sleek frame, brushing along bared protoflesh, stroking transformation seams since his digits were too large to move into certain gaps but he pulled back as Bumblebee threw his helm back, breaking the kiss and crying out softly.

“O-Optim-m-muss!” he cried out, arching into his servos. Taking that as encouragement the Prime did it again, this time pressing harder and making him cry out louder, fading into a soft whimper. He felt so hot now, his sensory network was going into overdrive as pleasure surged through every circuit of his frame. Smiling up at him he reached up, caressing the side of his faceplates he continued to smile as the larger bot leaned into his touch, purring softly. “Optimus… frag me,” he whispered softly.

Wait, had—had he heard him right? “Bee… I-I can’t.” He couldn’t do that to him, it was wrong! He was his commanding officer. He shouldn’t have let this get so far! But why wasn’t he pulling away?

“Please… let me help you,” he continued to whisper, gently pulling his helm down he kissed him once more, stroking the back of his helm. Feeling him slowly kiss him back he spread his stabilizers so he was now laying between them. Taking his large he guided it down, whimpering softly as the large digits rubbed and caressed his interface panel, letting it slid open to reveal his lubricated valve. Pulling back he panted softly in an attempt to keep his system from overheating. “Please boss bot… want you.”

“Oh Primus… B-Bee…” Could he really do this? Sure the scout wanted it, but what about in the morning? What if he claimed to say Ratchet that their team leader took advantage of him? What if Sentinel found out? Or, Primus forbid, Ultra Magnus? He didn’t realize he was trembling as he felt servos wrap around him tightly, gently encouraging him to lay down. He did, very aware of the delicious heat pressing into his cod piece but he own servos wrapped around the smaller mech beneath him, pressing his faceplates into his neck cables, clenching his denta together to the point of activating his pain sensors.

“It’s okay, Optimus… I just want to help you,” he cooed softly, stroking his trembling frame as he revved his engine softly. He didn’t mean to make him panic like this, he thought he wanted it from the kiss but maybe he was wrong. “I won’t say anything to anybot, there’s nothing for them to know.” Feeling an almost violent tremble he tightened his arms around him, refusing to let go. “I mean it. You’re taking advantage of me, not when I want you.” Primus how he wanted him for so long but now was not the time to bare his spark to him. They lay there for a few breems, the only sound in the room of their engines revving and cooling fans running at a low hum. Bumblebee loosened his arms when he felt Optimus shift, thinking he was going to get up but he gasped in pleasure as strong servos once more stroked his sides, pressing into the seams of his armor. “B-Bossss bot!” he stuttered slight in a burst of static as his hips were lifted and he felt his scorching cod piece press into his valve, making him whimper in want, digits clutching at eh berth.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he panted heavily, stroking every sensitive spot on the small frame, moaning in want as he felt his stabilizers wrap around his waist, bucking up into him. “Bee…” he purred into his receiver, feeling him tremble in pleasure he moved up to one of his small horns and kissed it.

“Aah! Again!” the bot pleaded, shivering as the Prime continued to kiss the small appendages. They were the most sensitive parts of his entire frame, and being so charged as he was it just drove the pleasure home. Crying out he felt digits slowly pumping themselves in and out of his valve, as though preparing him he reached down but not to stop him, but to rub and grope at the cod piece. The armor was so hot it actually hurt but it didn’t take long before he felt a very large and very pressurized spike emerge, leaking a great deal of transfluid. “F-Frag me, Op-timuss! N-Need yo-ou inssside!” he panted.

“Don’t want to hurt you,” he repeated, licking the small horn and enjoying the eager cries he made. Oh primus, his hips bucked into his servo even as he felt him guide it to his valve, eager to bur himself in the wet heat.

“N-No ssealss,” he hissed, feeling him remove his digits and moaned lowly at eh tip began to push in, making him tighten his stabilizers around his waist even more. “Please, frag me!!”

He meant to take it slow, to let him adjust to his spike, to enjoy the sensations of his valve, but he was only one mech. With a quick snap of his hips he buried his entire spike inside and quickly swallowed Bumblebee’s scream of pleasure, clutching him tightly to his frame as he did the same. Oh Primus he was so hot, hotter than the Pitt itself! He was also so tight, the cables threatening to squeeze his spike off but he felt nothing of a seal.

_‘When did he lose his seal?’_ He wanted to ask him when he had it done, who had taken it, and if he still had his seal over his spike but as he shifted his hips he heard Bee whimper in discomfort. “Shhh. I’m sorry, bee,” he whispered against his lips, stroking his side and a stabilizer around his waist, ignoring the pain of his digits digging into his plating.

“Aah… Opti-mus…” he panted, trying to get his frame to relax. Oh he was big, bigger than he thought but it had been a very long time since he’d been spiked. Opening his optics he reached up, curling his digits around the larger mech’s helm and smiled. “I-I’m okay… been-ahh!-a while.”

“I… I didn’t, want to hurt you,” he groaned, resisting the urge to pull out then back in, to feel him tightening around him but the way he kept shifting beneath him wasn’t making it any easier to deal with. His patience was rapidly fading away as he let out another groan, letting his helm drop down to rest against the yellow one beneath him. “So tight…”

“Big spike…” he answered softly, tightening his servos around him he shifted his hips, the pain now replaced with pleasure and it was enough to make his engine purr in delight. He could tell the Prime was trying to keep his composure but he knew what he wanted. “Please, frag me.”

“Bee… tell me, if it hurts,” he whispered, watching his optics as he slowly pulled out until only the tip remained, then slowly pushed back in, rubbing along every sensory node in the process. Both mechs moaned loudly at the pleasure, lubrications mixing together, allowing for a smoother ride. He kept up the slow pace, watching for any sign of pain or discomfort but there was none, only pleasure and desire mirrored back. Once more he caught the minibot’s lip components in a kiss, glossias sliding along each other’s, servos tracing transformation seams and gathering condensation. With each thrust he could feel the cables loosening, no longer threatening to squeeze his spike completely off but when he pushed in, shifting his hips just slightly the yellow frame arched his back strut, throwing his helm back as he let out a static cry. For a moment he thought he had hurt him and was prepared to pull out completely but the stabilizers around his waist were locked in place.

“Bumblebee?”

“There! A-Again!” he gasped, hips twitching but the other mech obeyed and once more he cried out; the cluster of nodes he brushed against made his system heat up even more, nearly frying the wires and circuits but the pleasure was incredible! Now Optimus was purposely rubbing against them with every thrust and he couldn’t help but hold on, rolling his hips into his, begging for more. He tried to call out his name but it was broken by bursts of static.

“Bee… oh Primus…!” he grunted behind clenched denta, his hips moving faster and deeper, enjoying the tightness of his valve. It was trying to keep him in, refusing to go but the friction it was causing was making him moan in pleasure but he wanted to feel more, to bury himself even deeper inside him. Running his servos along a stabilizer he dug his digits into the malleable metal, unwinding them from around his waist he sat up. He slowed to a stop, his fans still running in high, systems demanding he complete the interfacing but he waited, watching the minibot closely.

He didn’t know why he had stopped, but he wanted him to continue fragging him, to bury his spike inside and overload inside his valve, to tell him he loved him. He failed to realize he had closed his optics as he looked up at the red and white mech, static obscuring his vision as well as his vocalization. “O-Opti-timus-s-s?” His blue servos tightened over his stabilizers, engine purring loudly, he whimpered as he slowly pulled back until he had nearly removed his entire spike, then slid in completely, angling his hips so he stroked every sensitive node roughly, pushing until he hit the back of the scout’s valve. Optics grew wide and his frame arched against the berth, servos gripped the berth beneath him hard enough to dent the metal; he tried to scream out in pleasure but only static escaped his mouth. He whimpered in pleasure as he began moving, thrusting in deeply so each time he felt the tip of his spike hitting the back of his valve made him cry out in intense pleasure. Oh Primus, his system was struggling to stay online, his own spike begging to be released from its own armor plating but he held it back. He couldn’t overload just yet, not until he was satisfied.

His valve had gotten so much tighter, it was starting to hurt but the pain was being overwritten by the incredible pleasure. Once more he could feel his system threatening to overtake his logic, to claim the minibot as his own, to interface with him until he was addicted to him and him alone. _‘No! he’s—my friend!’_ he argued, fighting back the urge and claim to take him. He was offering himself to him, why not? Growling (mostly to himself) he leaned over the smaller frame, pushing his stabilizers to his chassis, opening him up even more. His engine grew louder, drowning out the other engine in response; he took his lips in a hungry kiss, eager to taste everything he had to offer. He caught a servo in his own and pinned it above their helms to the berth, digits interlocking together. Oh Primus, he could feel an overload rapidly approaching, he wanted to slow down and savor it but his frame continued moving against the other rapidly, eager to feel his own.

_‘Oh Primus—so close—gonna overload!’_ Those thoughts kept repeating themselves in his processor in an endless loop, spreading his stabilizers as wide as he could he continued to cry out as the thick spike continued rubbing against every sensitive node in his valve. The way he interfaced, it reminded him of the way he fought, full of so much passion and drive, he broke the kiss to let out another static cry as the large frame grinded against his smaller frame, building a wonderful friction that was borderline painful but it was so good, so fragging good! He mewed loudly when he felt hungry lip components wrap around his sensory horn, a wet glossia caressing it roughly. A warning flashed across his display, his temperature was getting too hot and his system was going to crash. He tried to warn Optimus, wanting to experience an overload together but a servo greedily groped his aft, slipping further down and rubbed at the outer rim of his valve he lost it and overloaded with a static-filled cry, calling out the mech’s full designation.

The moment the slick cables tightened around him and vibrated, he couldn’t take it anymore. Releasing the small horn from his mouth he buried his faceplates into the arched neck cables, grunting softly as he overloaded into the quivering valve. The sensation of his transfluid mixing with the yellow mech’s lubrication, coating every inch of his spike, it made him growl softly and continued to thrust into him, the cables clutching and tightened around him rhythmically, trying to pump every last drop from his frame. Lifting his faceplates he licked at the bruised cables he had unknowingly bitten into, soothing them with swipes of his glossia, making the minibot moan softly.

“Still online?” he asked quietly, slowly lifting his hand from a spent spike before slowly rolling onto his side so he wouldn’t accidentally crush him.

“B-Barely…” Bumblebee replied, moaning appreciably as the spike slid free from his valve, followed by a gush of their mixed fluids. He could feel a recharge ghosting onto his system, slowly drawing him to recharge and he didn’t bother to fight it. With a gentle purr of his engine he cuddled to the broad chassis and closed his optics, letting his system offline.

Optimus knew he fell into recharge as he felt his frame go lax in his arms, the gentle hum of his cooling fans and the sound of air being cycled through his vents. He ignored the feeling of his valve so close to his spent spike, feeling the urge to claim him once more rise but he could feel his own recharge threatening to overtake him. Sighing softly he pulled the smaller mech as close as he could, wrapping his arms around him. A servo came up and tenderly stroked one of his small horns, smiling as he let out a low moan, nuzzling the glass on his chassis. That was the sight he last remembered as he succumbed to a recharge himself.

A mega-cycle later Bumblebee felt his optics go online, allowing his system to run a quick diagnostic. Everything was good, his core temperature lowered, his interface panel and cod piece having closed while he recharged. He listened to the steady hum from the chassis he was pressed against and slowly opened his optics. Optimus was still recharging deeply, arms wrapped around him tightly he had to smile. But he also knew he couldn’t stay here as much as he wanted. And he _really_ wanted to stay.

Slowly he sat up, pausing when he felt the arms tighten around him briefly but the big bot was still recharging. Moving slowly and carefully he pushed him so he was laying on his back, no doubt it would be more comfortable but he also took notice of the dried fluids along both of them and the berth. He felt his cheek ridges heat up, energon racing through the cables at the thought of one way he could clean him up. And maybe, he would enjoy it.

_‘But, he could be thinking about her and not me,’_ he processed sadly. Looking around he slid off the berth and locating a cleaning cloth he went over and cleaned up any traces of their interfacing last night, taking care not to awaken him. He did the same to himself, trembling as his valve clenched in memory, eager to feel the large spike filling him up. _‘No. This was a one-time thing.’_ Tossing the used cloth with several others he looked at his commanding officer and reached out, letting his digits gently trace his faceplates before leaning down and kissed him softly. Part of him hoped he was awaken, that he would pull him close to his chassis, and beg him to stay with him. He didn’t so much as stir.

“I hope I helped you, boss bot,” he said softly, tracing his features one last time before silently leaving. He paused and looked back at eh berth before opening the door and walked out, letting the door close behind him. Luckily no one was up as he silently headed to his own room.

As soon as he heard the door close Optimus Prime slowly opened his optics. The moment he had felt the cloth wiping away the dried traces of interfacing he awoke but kept quiet as though he was still recharging. It took everything he hard not to let his engine purr at the touch, especially when rubbed at his spike housing. Then came the caresses followed by the kiss and once more he fought the urge to pull him atop his frame, to kiss him back and ask him to stay. But there was a reason he didn’t pursue a relationship despite how much his spark ached for it.

His team was in danger, ever since they stumbled across the AllSpark, and ensuring the wrath of Megatron. Even now the small human organic Sari was in danger herself, but she continued to help them out anyway possible. If he were to pursue a relationship and the Decepticons found out, they would use it against him and he would not be able to live with himself if something happened to him.

_‘I’m sorry, bumblebee… but I won’t put you in anymore danger,’_ he thought to himself as he shut his optics tightly. _‘I will not lose anybot else I care about.’_

**Author’s Note:** I did it I did it I did it did it did it!! (does a happy dance) Not sure why, but I just luv me some OPxBB slash! I also like some MxBB slash but that’s for another time. So fellow writers and readers, I hope you enjoy it and remember to send me your one-shot requests in either a review of a PM! Now, I’m off to try and finish the next chapter of ‘Nightmare’! Bye!


	3. MegatronxBumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bumblebee goes to his first arena fight and soon cannot stop thinking about the undefeated champion, Megatron. Maybe if he gets the nerve to talk to him, things can go back to being normal—right?

**Disclaimer:** Transformers: Animated and everything related belongs to the rightful company Hasbro. I am in no way shape or form making money off this.

**Author’s Notes:** Bumblebee goes to his first arena fight and soon cannot stop thinking about the undefeated champion, Megatron. Maybe if he gets the nerve to talk to him, things can go back to being normal—right?

Title: More Than a Crush

Pairing: MegatronxBumblebee

Requested: sugadoe (AO3)

The first time he saw the grey mech was the first time the small mech had been to a gladiator match in the slums of Kaon. He had heard the stories that it was the worst cyber city to be in, that it was dangerous to go there alone or you were never heard from again, and even worse when you were an attractive femme or mech who would soon find themselves forced to work on one of the pleasure houses. But after countless begging (nagging) his friends invited him along but they made him promise to stay close no matter what.

“Pfft! I’m not a sparkling; I can take care of myself!” he said irritably, crossing his servos over his chassis.

Ironhide grinned and reached over to pat the smaller mech on the head like one would do to a youngling who was trying to act like a full grown mech. “But Bee, ya so short we might lose ya in tha’ crowds,” he explained, laughing at the scowl that crossed his faceplates but it was quickly lost when he kicked at his joint, causing his stabilizers to buckle under him. “Frag! Told ya not to kick me there!”

“And I told you not to treat me some a sparkling!” he snapped.

“If you two don’t stop arguing we might as well go back,” Longarm quickly pointed out though he could feel a processor ache forming. Why did he agree for the minibot to come? Oh right, because he would not stop asking and threaten to follow them if they didn’t bring him along this time. Not that he didn’t care but he was too fragging cute he would be snatched up by some mech.

Ironhide grumbled as he slowly stood, bending his stabilizer he began walking and tried smacking the yellow helm as it ran past him but the little mech dodged and stuck his glossia out at him. He rolled his optics; maybe if he stopped acting like a youngling he would stop treating him like one. “Hey, any chance they gonna have the champ fighting?” he asked the other mech.

“Perhaps. I’ve heard he’s been undefeated since he first entered the arena so we might get a chance to see him fight tonight.”

“Who’s that?” Bumblebee asked.

“Have you been living under a rock? He’s the best fighter around!” a green bot his size and similar bodywork scowled at him. “He’s the best fighter around! He wins all his fights; I heard he even took down three battle mechs twice his size in one hour!”

“Yea, Ah heard he ripped a mech’s spark out and show it to ‘im before he went offline,” the red mech grinned.

The yellow minibot only listened with half an audio as he ran up to Longarm’s side. “What’s he like? I mean besides being this great fighter.”

“No one really knows. There’s a rumor that he used to be a miner before he ticked off the High Council and was sentenced to the arena. He’s not the type of mech that sits down to talk either, but you’ll see once we get there. Just remember-”

“I know I know! ‘Stay close and don’t go wondering off’. Geez, you’re worse than Ironhide! And how come you don’t tell Wasp to stay close?”

“Because no bot wants Wasp even if he was the last mech available, you on the other servo-” he paused, looking him over before looking forward and resetting his vocalizer. “Never mind.”

“What? I’m what?” But Longarm refused to tell him. “C’mon, tell me!”

“Forget about it, Bumblebee. Let’s hurry; we need to get there early so we can get good seats.”

The yellow mech frowned but followed along. He hated when his friend did that but at least he was finally going to see a real gladiator fight! But he also wondered what was so great about this champion fighter anyway. Oh well, it sure beat staying back in his room.

The arena resembled the other filthy buildings surrounding the cityscape but inside it was huge. It was actually underground with a narrow stairwell leading down but upon arriving there were a great many mechs and some femmes already there, yelling loudly and pushing at each other. A fight was going on in the arena between two mechs who looked like they were trying to tear the other apart. Cheering was heard when one of the mechs scored a hit on his opponent, followed by even louder cheering and cursing as the other fighter turned the tables and threw his opponent into the thick walls lining the fighting pit. Oil and energon stained the floor, scorch marks and dents were present but it was quite the sight. Bee found himself staring, optics wide. Even in his wildest defrags he never would have imagined anything like this and now here he was!

“This is slagging awesome!!” he shouted, making more than one bot look at him in slight annoyance. He wanted to get a better look but before he could go and squeeze his way to the front he felt Longarm leading him away. “Hey, I wanna watch!”

“I found some seats, let’s go before they’re taken,” he said and pushed him ahead of him, leading them to a few seats together that would let them look into the area. Arriving the larger mechs ordered cubes of high grade but refused to give any to the minibots. Bumblebee scowled, hating how they were treating him like a sparkling but that was soon forgotten as he watched the fight. It was brutal, horrifying, gruesome, and he loved every astrosecond of it! He wasn’t sure who to cheer for but he could tell his friends had their own favorites and cheered when they scored a hit, cursed when they missed, and hurled insults when the opponent scored a hit themselves. Bee felt like he was going through the motions, cheering for whoever he thought was the coolest. The fights continued to go on until it was the last fight of the evening.

“Mechs and femmes, get ready for the main fight that I know you’ve all been waiting for!” the announcer said with a smirk, listening to the anticipated shouts of the audience. “He’s been undefeated since he first arrived here. Let’s give it up for our champion, Megatron!!” Every bot in the audience erupted into audio splitting praise, servos clapping together as many began chanting the mech’s designation as a tall and somewhat imposing figure slowly made his way into the area.

Now Bumblebee wasn’t a romantic at spark, he found the whole notion of it a waste and didn’t have time to dwell on it. But the moment he watched the large mech walk in he couldn’t look away. The mech was big but not overly so, his armor had the worn look of a fighter but the way he walked showed off a level of confidence Bee wished he could pull off. He didn’t acknowledge the audience or the many bots chanting his name. Instead he focused on his opponent, a mech no doubt twice his height and more than three times his width stormed into the area, his heavy peds shaking the ground with each step he took. This mech had the obviously worn armor that spoke of his repeated fighting, but unlike Megatron he shouted at the mechs booing him, made a grand show of proving how much bigger and stronger he was than the champion.

“There’s no way he can win against that one, look at the size of him!” a mech said from behind Bee, nudging his friend next to him. “Bet ya he goes down in a breem.”

“You seriously wanna throw your creds away? Megatron hasn’t been undefeated for nothing,” the other mech scoffed. “I bet you the champ dismantles the glitch.”

“You’re on!”

The fight began and sure enough, the overly large mech tried to show off to the audience with his impressive feats of strength by swinging a massive fist at the smaller mech but Megatron merely smirked and nimbly dodged out of the way. At first Bumblebee wondered what he was doing but the longer he watched the sooner he realized that he was letting his opponent tire himself out. He never would have thought of that but the big glitch was wasting all his energy trying to smash the gray mech. Before he knew it, he was staggering around, swaying unsteadily on his peds.

“D-Damn you… Damn you to the Pitt!!” he shouted angrily. Raising his arm his clutched servo fired like a rocket at the grey mech, threatening to destroy him on the spot. But Megatron merely smirked and moving so fast no bot saw it happening, unleashed a sword and easily sliced the servo in half. As it exploded behind him he charged forward and began cutting at the large mech, literally cutting him down to size. He was constantly on the move, never staying in one place long enough to get hit, before anyone knew it, the large mech was on the ground, his limbs having been torn from his frame, leaking oil and energon everywhere.

“The winner and still champion, Lord Megatron!!” Once more the audience erupted into cheers, peds stomping the floor and chanting his name. The gray mech never acknowledged any of it, he saw no need to but as he looked at the audience composed of mech and femmes of different colors and frame types he paused to stare at a small mech in bright yellow plating. He wasn’t sure why but the sight of him stuck with him and he smirked as he turned and walked out of the arena.

Bee swore for a moment that the gladiator was looking at him but when he turned to ask his friends he had to suppress a groan. Ironhide and Wasp had gotten overcharged on cubes of high grade and were loudly arguing about the fights. Luckily Longarm wasn’t so bad off but seeing how the fights were over he nodded to the minibot.

“Let’s go back before these two try to get into the arena themselves.”

“Y-yeah.” Leading a still yelling Wasp they joined the others as they spilled out of the arena, all heading in different directions but he stopped and stared at the building. One thing for certain, he was coming back with or without his friends. He was determined to watch Megatron fight again.

It wasn’t hard to find out when the silver gray mech was fighting, everyone knew his designation and before long he had a rough schedule of his future fights. He learned that the arena typically didn’t do that but seeing how the champ was so popular, they set up matches they knew would draw even more mechs to watch. A few times he went with his friends but most of the time he managed to sneak off alone and watch the fights himself. Unlike what Longarm thought, he didn’t go anywhere else except the arena and ignored any mechs that tried to take him somewhere else. That, and he had his trusty stingers to cause some damage before he could run away. There was no bot online that could match his speed!

With each fight he went to he found himself becoming a rapid fan of the gladiator, cheering for him along with everybot else. He even stayed after in the off chance of seeing him outside the arena but while many others have the same idea he was too nervous to approach him. The gladiator was almost like Primus himself in the bot’s optics. He was a powerful warrior, cunning and fast, destroying his opponents with such skill! However, the more Bee watched him the more he began to fantasize what he would do or say if he ever got the nerve to speak to him. But that wasn’t all, watching his idol for so long his fantasizes turned into a more intimate turn although he was determined not to let his friends find out. Sadly with a loud-mouthed bot by the name Wasp it wasn’t long before all his friends knew about his “overcharged” dreams.

Okay, granted his defrags about the arena champion were getting harder to control. He didn’t want to just talk to the powerful warrior, he wanted to know what he felt like, to feel his servos stroking his frame, to see what his lip components tasted like, to hear his designation coming from him as he pulled him close-

_‘Stop that!’_ he quickly scolded himself, shaking his helm roughly. _‘That isn’t gonna happen; I can’t even talk to him!’_ But what if he could just tell him he was his biggest fan? What if, he could see him face plate to face plate, tell him what an awesome fighter he was, then that should settle any infatuations he had with him. Right?

_‘Y-Yeah, ‘course it will!’_ he grinned to himself, a plan running in his processor. _‘Think I heard some femmes say something about how he’s got a room there at the arena being the champ and all; I’ll watch his fight, wait in his room, and talk to him then! Yeah, it’s perfect!’_ His logic circuits were trying to point out how stupid and dangerous this was but he didn’t care as he raced to his room. Megatron had a fight scheduled tonight and he was determined not to miss his chance.

The arena seemed even more crowded tonight and Bumblebee was finding himself being pushed along due to his small stature but he finally made his way inside. Unable to find a seat he decided to stand around the railing that looked down into the pit along with several others, credits being passed from servo to servo as bets were made. Bee had made a few bets himself, but this time he wasn’t interested in credits. He waited and watched as the fight concluded and before he knew it, it was Megatron’s turn.

“Give it up for the still undefeated champion… Lord Megatron!!” More than one audio receiver burst as the sheer volume as the silver gray mech made his way into the pit, giving a bored look at the audience and Bee could feel his frame nearly vibrate with excitement. This was it! Part of him wanted to put a bet on the fighter to win, but he had to remind himself of his ulterior motive. Halfway into the fight he forced himself to leave, melding into the crowds despite his bright coloring and headed for the direction he had seen him come from.

Once more his logic circuits were trying to get him to leave, to stop before he did something incredibly foolish, that this was a fragging glitchy idea but he shrugged it off.

_‘It’s just a crush,’_ he told himself. _‘I’m just gonna talk to him and that’ll be it.’_ He had no idea he had just resigned himself to his fate. He walked around the back area of the arena, for once thankful for his small frame as mechs never seemed to notice him but he still hid when he could. One such occurrence was as he was walking down a hall filled with doors and he heard someone coming towards him, heavy ped steps echoing.

“Hey!”

_‘Oh slag! I gotta hide!’_ he thought frantically, optics darting back and forth he tried a door but it was locked, as was the next one. _‘C’mon! Please please please open-yes!’_ A door opened and without peering inside or turning on the lights darted inside and closed it, locking. Supressing his fans and vents off he pressed his receiver close, struggling to listen. Had he been caught? Were his plans ruins? Would they ban him from ever returning?

“Hey!!”

“I heard you the first damn, slag it!”

“Listen, did you make sure the high-grade is ready when the champ is done?”

“Are you glitching? ‘Course I did! I just put it in his room!” he scoffed and gestured to said closed door “Pretty damn big, must be nice getting his own place here on top of his share of the bets.”

“He’s the champ, and he gets whatever he wants. Boss’s orders.”

“Yeah yeah, even boss isn’t glitchy enough to tell him no.”

“Did you remember to lock his door when you were done?”

“Fragging Pitt, yes! Alright?!” To be honest he couldn’t remember but what did he care? No one was glitchy enough to sneak into the arena champion’s room, not unless they wanted to be turned into scrap metal.

Bee frowned as he listened to their vocalizations getting fainter but he was afraid of opening the door. He waited, counting down the breems before slowly straightening. Oh Primus that had been a close one that he finally cycled air through his vents, sagging against the door and pressing his helm against it. Once he felt his fuel pumps and spark calmed down he fumbled around the room for a light and turned it on. He was in a room but whose? He slowly looked around, careful not to touch anything but sitting on what looked like a desk were notes and letters. He was really curious but afraid of touching anything skimmed the ones on top and felt his optics widen.

Everything was addressed to the undefeated gladiator Megatron.

He couldn’t believe it, he was here! He was in Megatron’s own quarters! He quickly suppressed the urge to squeal like a sparkling (he did just about dance in place) and decided since he was here he was going to look around. It looked pretty simple and bare: a large berth was pressed against a wall, a weapon’s rack in a corner, a door leading to a small washroom where he no doubt cleaned himself after every match, a desk across from the berth, covering in notes, letters, and data pads which looked surprising neat. He also saw a large storage box next to the desk and couldn’t help but go over and see if it was open. It wasn’t, naturally, but being in his room like this he could feel his frame starting to heat up.

_‘I wonder… does he ever, invite anybot here?’_ He wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know the answer but if not what did he do when he was alone? Did he train? Did he plan what he was going to do in his next match? Or did he do something else, something every mech did while they were alone? Slowly moving to the berth he reached out, running his servo over the top of the smooth metal he slowly sat down. It was so big Bee lay down in the middle and stretched his servos out but he still couldn’t reach the edge. Primus, this was such an exhilarating feeling! Just picturing the gladiator lying on this berth had his processor bringing up images and vids from his defrags, his own servos began roaming his heated frame.

He shouldn’t be thinking about this mech, he knew absolutely nothing about him and yet it just added to the mystery. Were all the rumors about him true? Was he really sent to the arena as a form of punishment? Was he really trying to form an army to go against the High Council? He moaned as one of his servos moved between his stabilizers, tracing the seams on his interface panel it slid open and he began to rub and caress his valve.

Oh Primus, the minibot was so deep thinking about the gray mech he didn’t stop to think that maybe this was not a good idea, instead he quickly began to thrust his digits into his valve repeatedly, feeling his lubricant gather and closed his optics, imaging it was the warrior doing this to him. He closed his optics, off-lining them as he spread his stabilizers wider, arching his chassis his other servo traced seams and pinched sensitive wires; he bit down on his lip component to keep his soft whines and moans from being heard. His cod piece was straining to contain his pressurizing spike, digits thrusting in faster and harder, fluids spilling freely to stain the berth beneath him, getting harder to contain himself-

“Make sure no bot disturbs me,” came a loud and very familiar voice just outside the door.

“Of course, Lord Megatron.”

Blue optics snapped open and bee shot off the berth like he had been shocked. He quickly looked around the room but the door was the only way in or out. Oh he was fragging dead if anybot caught him in here! _‘Hide hide, I needa hide!’_ he thought frantically, looking around he noticed a locker next to the door he had missed earlier and winced. He didn’t want to be cramped in such a tiny space but hearing the warrior’s voice getting louder, the ped steps getting closer, he quickly and quietly, climbed in and closed the door behind him.

The warrior was irritable but he was like that most days. Life as a gladiator was fine: he had hundreds of fans who chanted his name, had quite a bit in the way of creds from winning all his matches, and he was a veritable king in the arena, but he wasn’t pleased with that. No, he wanted more, he wanted to make the auto-fools suffer and rule Cybertron, to make the council pay for their actions against him. But his army would take time to grow before he could think of going against them. Yes, his “fans” were so loyal, they listened to whatever he had to say.

Going to his berth he was thinking of resting when he noticed something on the smooth metal. There was a small puddle of a liquid that had not been there before, he was certain of it. Reaching out he trailed his digits through the silvery-pink puddle only to discovered it was not only warm, it was lubricant. So, some bot thought to sneak into his quarters and make themselves at home. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, it had been mostly femmes and they had been brazen enough to remain on his berth as though expecting him to immediately throw himself at them. Feh! Highly unlikely. But this time he smirked; whoever had done this was not only here, said bot was hiding.

_‘It has been a while… perhaps, I will have fun with this intruder before I end his pitiful existence,’_ he thought to himself. Such an idea warmed his frame as he gave no other indication to his stained berth.

Bee tried to keep his system quiet but he almost swore his fuel pumps were so loud the warrior would be able to hear them outside the room. He couldn’t see anything from within the locker but he strained his receivers to listen as he moved about the room. For a big mech he was quiet, silently moving from one spot to another, he even came close to the locker and he tried hard not to panic.

_‘I-I’ll tell him I got lost! He’ll believe that, right? I hope?’_ Who was he kidding, no who would believe such an obvious lie! Whatever he was going to say he had to make sure it was enough that the warrior didn’t destroy him on the spot. He listened as the peds grew faint, then he heard a door slide open then close. He waited but soon he heard the sound of what appeared to be water running. Perhaps he had gone into the washroom to shower and if he did then this would be the opportunity he needed to get away! He slowly reached for the door and opened it, wincing when it creaked loudly he froze. Still no sound so he pushed the door open wider. The room was dark, the light in the washroom the only thing on he silently closed the locker, moving to the door he was almost there when he felt a servo grab him from behind and slammed him into a wall. His first instinct was to fight, kicking at the bot holding him, cursing at him to let him go. He winced as a servo slammed his own servo into the wall, a bulky frame pressing his own frame into the wall; he was about to shout for help but froze when something cold and sharp pressed none to gently into his neck cables.

_‘Oh Primus! I’m gonna die!’_

He winced as the lights in the room turned on, hurting his optics enough to off-line them but the mech pressing into him didn’t pull back. “What are you doing in my quarters?” growled a low, deep vocalization. Bee’s faceplates turned white, optics opening wide despite the sting of the lights and stared at the mech who had him pinned to the wall.

“L-Lord Megatr-tron?

Megatron smirked as he looked down at the small mech before him, immediately recognizing the yellow plating. His red optics bore into the soft blues and he took a klik to look over his slender frame. “So, you’re the intruder,” he purred lowly.

Bee was not trembling, he was not afraid; it just took him several kliks to get his glossia to move and processor to reboot. “I-I’m not an intruder! I-just wanted to see you.” Oh Primus that sounded so glitchy!

“I see. But you are in my quarters without my permission so that makes you an intruder.”

“But I’m not! I’m your biggest fan!” An optic ridge lifted and he flushed as he began telling him after all the matches he had seen, how he had burst his vocal cables from shouting so much during one of his matches, how he always wanted to talk to him but he never had the opportunity until now. “I-I just wanted to meet you and… and…” Well now he wasn’t sure what to say. That he had a crush on him? That he had been dreaming about him? That he wondered what he was like in the berth? That he wanted him to frag him until his entire system crashed? Oh sure, that would go over so well. Besides, why would the undefeated champ want him when he could have his pick out of all the other femmes and mech that were better looking than a minibot?

The gladiator could see he was trying to come up with a reason and while normally he didn’t like those who wasted his time he remembered the lubricant staining his berth. He smirked and slowly removed his sword but didn’t move away from him. Oh he was going to have fun with this little minibot, and then he was going to destroy him.

“You claim to be my biggest fan, how can I be certain you aren’t a diversion from one of my competitors?” he asked, watching those blue optics look up at him in surprise. Oh it had happened before, but regardless he still won all his battles.

“I’ll do anything to prove it! Just name it!” His logic circuits were really wishing he had thought about his choice of words before speaking but it was too late. The gladiator looked down at him, as though studying him before he slowly pulled away. Before the minibot could think to run he grabbed his arm and nearly threw him onto his berth where he landed sprawled just slightly, his aft in the air, showing him his stained stabilizers and interface panel.

“Prove it.”

Ow. Prove what? How? He felt his face plates flush when he realized he was on the berth, but when his servo encountered something slick and warm he lifted it up and felt the energon in his cables alternate between hot and cold. It was his when he had been playing with himself and he forgot to clean it up. Sitting up he turned to face him but his optics shuttered he was went over his words. “What?”

“Prove you’re not an intruder. Show me what you were doing on my berth before I came in. If not, I will tear you apart one circuit at a time.”

“What?? How is that gonna prove anything??” Slag it, his system was already heating up at the thought!

“Show me, or else.”

Bee swallowed, feeling the cables in his throat tighten but wasn’t this what he had dreamed about? Showing the powerful arena fighter what he thought about him after an intense fight? Trembling he nodded and sitting back, trailed yellow digits over his frame but it was hard to get into the mood with his life cycle hanging on the line. _‘Just-Just get this over with,’_ he thought and off-lined his optics. He thought back to his session earlier, moving both servos along his frame digits slipped beneath plating to pinch at wires, tracing transformation seams his interface slid open amd he trailed his servo down, whimpering as he slipped his digits inside.

Megatron couldn’t believe what he was seeing, the way the minibot withered on his berth, pleasuring himself on his berth, delving his small digits into his wet valve he watched as the oily lubricant slipped free and stained his berth once more that found himself moving forward. He was not expecting to enjoy this and for a klik, wondered if the small mech was a pleasure bot but he didn’t care.

“Were you thinking about me when you touched yourself?” he demanded, silently climbing onto the berth and leaned over him, growling as he felt the heat from his small frame.

“Y-Y-Yessss…” the minibot whimpered, arching his chassis as his digits tugged at the wires and protoflesh, once more spreading his stabilizers as he continued to thrust two digits into his valve. “Be-Been dreaming ‘bout this…”

“Have you?” Oh what a lovely stroke to his ego; he continued to growl lowly as he leaned on one servo and slid the other to reach out and trace his frame. He felt so hot, almost burning but the minibot leaned into his touch, whimpering in want. “Tell me more…” he purred, stroking his bared midsection as digits slid lower, curling over a smooth hip through his plating, tracing seams and ridges.

“I-aah!-I dream you touch m-me… making me-uhh!-beg for your touch… teasing me-oh Primus! Please…!” Bumblebee whined softly, shivering as he felt a ghostly touch trace the rim of his valve. His optics shot open and he choked on a static-fill cry as digits much thicker and larger than his own pressed into his valve alongside his own, roughly stroking nodes, a mix of slight pain and pleasure racing along his sensory network. “O-Oh Primus, m-more!”

The silver gray mech grunted as he felt the tight heat tightening around their digits, making him wonder if this lusty little creature was in fact, sealed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had an untouched bot to himself, the idea was so arousing he looked down in surprise to see his cod piece had slid open and released his pressurized spike. He couldn’t wait any longer, he growled and pulled their digits out only to push his back in, roughly stroking the slick cables and scissoring them. He cared more about his own pleasure but this sexy minibot had been so eager to meet him, what could this hurt?

The yellow mech winced as the digits roughly stroked and thrust into his valve, the pain making it a bit more uncomfortable than he liked but as he tried to say something he gasped and whimpered as the fighter grabbed him by the back of his helm and slammed their lip components together. A slick, greedy glossia thrust inside and wrapped around his own, sucking at it hungrily. Bee squeaked and whimpered into the intense kiss, sliding his servos around his helm to pull him closer, arching his frame into him.

_‘I want him! I want him to take my seal, to frag me, to overload in my tanks!’_ This was more than a crush, he was almost obsessed with the warrior and to the Pitt what anybot else thought. His system was red lighting, warning him of an impending crash, an overload ready to burst free but he cried out in loss as the digits removed themselves from his valve. “M-Mega-tron…” he panted as he pulled back from the kiss, begging for more of his touch but gasped as large servos roughly slid over the latches of his plating, removing it from his hips and chassis until he was bared. Okay, he never dreamed about this and made to cover himself but cried out as his servos were pinned to the berth, a thick, powerful frame moving between his spread stabilizers, a fully pressurized spike pressing into his slick valve. Looking up at the glowing crimson optics he shivered as he realized the only times he saw that look was when the warrior was about to destroy his opponent. It was terrifying, but arousing at the same time.

The champion growled lowly as he looked down at the mech beneath him, trembling in a mix of fear and desire. He should just take him, it was what he wanted, but he also wanted him to keep coming back, wanted to hear him call out his designation, to watch his faceplates as an intense overload took him over completely. “What is your designation?” he whispered against his receiver, licking the sensitive wires and listening to him moan.

“Uhh… it’s, Bum-Bumble… bee…” he panted, tilting his helm to the side as the slick glossia glided along the sensitive wires and cables in his neck, twisting his servos in his grip and gasping as he lightly bit down on the cables. “Primus…”

“Only my name should flow from your lip components,” he growled lowly, pressing his hips close he moaned deeply at the feel of his spike rubbing against his valve, their fluids smearing against each other. “My sweet, little Bumblebee…”

Cheek ridges flushed, enjoying the way he purred his designation. “Megatron… please…” he whimpered, arching his bared frame into him he rolled his hips up, lifting his stabilizers and wrapping them around his waist. He couldn’t wait and he tried to get himself to relax, to cycle air as he felt the spike slowly push its way past the still tight seal his valve made, forced it way in. The minibot couldn’t help but cry out when he felt him break through his seal, whimpering and shuddering as he continue to push in until he was completely sheathed inside. Oh that hurt, that really really hurt! “… o-oww…” he whimpered as he shifted his hips, nothing but pain flowing over his network.

“Don’t move,” he growled lowly, pressing his faceplates into his throat. Oh Unicron he was so slagging tight! His valve was threatening to squeeze his spike off! He knew the minibot was in pain and thought maybe, just maybe, he should have taken his time as he had originally planned but he couldn’t wait. Releasing his servos he slid them down his arms, encouraging him to them around about his neck, stroking his sides and hips, rubbing at the tense cables. Feeling them loosen ever so slightly he slowly began to withdrew his spike, stroking his small protoform as it tensed and once he had loosened, slid back in. The pace was agonizingly slow but each time it took less and less to either pull out or thrust back in, enjoying the snugness and feeling his small yellow servos slip beneath his own plating, stroking and tugging at sensitive wires, eager to feel more of him.

“Me-Megatron… more,” Bumblebee moaned softly, gasping as the spike once more slid inside, pleasure coursing over his sensory network, his own spike pressing into the warrior’s stomach plates, slowly pressurizing in response.

“… as you wish, little Bumblebee.” Pulling back he slammed his spike in and was rewarded with a loud and passionate cry, a cry ending in his designation. This time the pace was fast, rough, and driven purely by lust. A tiny part of him was worried that the minibot was so small he wouldn’t be able to handle it and yet he surprised him as he begged for more, for him to move faster amd harder, digging his small digits into his protoform. He didn’t even realize he had managed to unlatched some of his own armor plating but he growled in pleasure as he stroked and gripped at his own bared form. When he felt his Bee’s overload approaching he would stop, wait for him to calm down before continuing. He enjoyed the way he cursed at him to stop teasing him, the way he tried to dig his digits into his form, how he tried to resist him when he lowered his helm to kiss him. He was cute, like a small cyberkitten trying to take down a full grown hellhound. But his own programming was yelling at him to just claim the minibot before some worthless mech tried to beat him to it.

“Mine!!” he snarled and slammed himself into the smaller frame, crushing him close he purred at the slightly pained cried as he eagerly fragged Bumblebee, listening to him cry out his designation in place of Primus, begged him to frag him until he crashed, giving himself to him utterly and completely. He ignored his system warning him of a powerful overload, one that threaten to crash his entire system, but he ignored it, trying to prolong the pleasure of fragging the minibot.

Bee wasn’t sure if he could take much more, his frame trembling as he experienced another but even more intense overload, his valve so slick with lubricant, making the stain on the berth even larger and feeling his joints beginning to lock up. He swore he could feel his processor smoking, his network was running so hot he thought it was very likely he would combust in a fiery blaze. He whimpered “Lord Megatron” as he crushed their mouths together once more, swallowing his weak cry as the grey mech’s spike unleashed his overload into his tank, pumping him full with so much trasnsfluid, making it swell slightly. With a whimpering cry and callined out the warrior’s designation, he released his own overload and sure enough his entire system crashed. The last thing he was aware as he fell into a forced stasis was of the warrior still fragging him, growling his designation.

Hours later Bee onlined his optics only to reset them when it was filled with static. He was confused when he didn’t recognize the room, wondering what the Pitt he did last night but the chassis he was laying on purred deeply, a thick arm holding him close, servo holding his aft possessively.

_‘O-Oh Primus… I, got fragged by the champ…’_ Oh now he remembered what happened! He ran a quick scan over his system and sure enough his valve was so sensitive, every time he so much as shifted his hips his sensory network red lighted. His self-repair system was trying to deal with it but it would take time. Even his spike was sore though he didn’t remember it being touched but he flushed when his processor supplied a clip of feeling a slick, thick glossia wrapping around it as it was stroked and teased, making him overload once more, his overload being swallowed by an eager mouth before licking him clean, all the while purring “my sweet little Bumblebee”.

Slowly pushing him up Bee gazed at the sleeping gladiator, bared of his armor plating he was pleased to see that he was still massive, though he was covered in scars, the raised silver lines a contrast to his dark protoflesh. Tracing htem with a light touch he took note of the light sheet covering them but seeing a slight “buldge” further down he suddenly wanted to experience more. His valve twinged at the thought; no way he was getting that monster of a spike back inside but he didn’t need to do that. Not yet anyway as he slowly slipped beneath the sheet and slid down his frame, servos slowly stroking his dark smoky gray protoflesh.

Megatron was enjoying his recharge, his processor playing vids of taking the minibot’s seals and making him cry out his designation, of tasting his spike and swallowing his fluids. He longed to taste his lubricant from the source, to make him beg for his spike before he fragged him into crashing again. So why was his sensory network heating up so quickly? Slowly onlining his optics he opened them, pulling the sheet back he watched as a small, yellow horned helm kissed and licked at his pressurized spike, tracing the ridges with a silver glossia, moaning softly at his taste as his small servo stroked it firmly. Purring deeply he slide his servo down, rubbing the small horns and stroking his helm. Blue optics peered up at him, glossia licking stray drops of transfluid before smirking and still keeping their optics locked, took the tip of the spike into his mouth and sucked hard.

“Frag Bumblebee!” he hissed, hips twitching he suppressed the urge to thrust up or push his helm down, to make him take him deeper. He was still exhausted from their interfacing last night and laid back on his berth, moaning deeply at the feel of his glossia, the way his small servo stroked and squeezed at the base, how he probed the opening at the tip-

*** Knock Knock ***

Slag it! Now what?!

“Lord Megatron? May I com-”

“No!” he snapped angrily, keeping the helm down before it could pull off completely, silently telling the minibot to continue. “What do you want?”

“W-Well, its late and you didn’t show up for training this morning. Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” he growled as Bumblebee began to suck harder, making eager sounds that were muffled by the spike in his mouth.

“Should I call for a medic-”

“I said I am fine!! Leave me before I summon a medic for you!!” he roared angrily, reaching down and gripping the helm in both servos he began to rapidly thrust his hips up, feeling small servos clutching at his hips but he didn’t care. Sadly, his overload seemed to come much too fast but he watched with a satisfied growling purr as the little mech swallowed as much transfluid as he could, some of it splattering onto his faceplates, covering his servos, even dripping down to his naked chassis. He looked so delectable, he continued to growl/purr softly as he pulled him forward and licked some of the transfluid from his mouth before kissing him.

“Never had I have a pleasant way to awaken from recharge,” he purred, licking his lip components.

“Had to return the favor,” Bee purred back, moaning softly at his touch, allowing himself to be pulled up so he was once more laying on his chassis but as he looked at his chronometer he cycled air deeply, tracng the silver scars on the fighter’s chassis. “I need to head back… before my friends worry.”

The warrior didn’t want him to go, he wanted him to stay here with him, to have him waiting for him on berth after every fight, to sample a taste of his valve and tease him until he begged for his spike, to make him his and only his. But he could not allow anything to deter him from his plans. Not even a sexy minibot with the plating the color of a new sun.

“Very well… but, I would not objected if you were to come visit me again,” he smirked, rubbing a digit over his between his stabilizers. Bee leaned into his touch, moaning softly only to squeak in surprise as he sat up and was then lifted into his arms, holding on as he began to walk.

“W-Where are we going?” he asked, flushing when he realized the berth was stained with so much fluid from their activities the other night.

“Did you think I would let you go back as filthy as you are?” Megatron chuckled as he entered the washroom and stepped into the shower, turning the water on he smirked as he pinned the minibot to the wall beneath the fall of water, servos stroking his sides. “I think your valve especially, could use a _very thorough_ cleaning …”

Bumblebee didn’t answer with words, his face plates a vibrate red but he watched as the silver gray helm lowered, clutching broad shoulders and arching his frame in pleasure as a hungry glossia caressed his the rim of very sensitive and sore valve. Oh yes, he would be coming to see the gladiator for a long time; he was certain now, this was much more than a little crush.

**Author’s Notes:** Whee second chapter is done, son! Now sugadoe wanted bee crushing on Megatron and I though the perfect setting was before the war when he was still a fighter. It was fun and I enjoyed writing it. This pairing is my second favorite with our adorable minibot ^^ I hope everyone enjoys it but it’s late so I’m going to bed. Nite nite!


	4. MegatronxOptimus PrimexBumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Decepticons won and Megatron had taken over Cybertron. What’s a tyrannical leader to do when he gets bored with his usual forms of entertainment?

**Disclaimer:** Transformers: Animated and everything related belongs to the rightful company Hasbro. I am in no way shape or form making money off this.

**Author’s notes:** The Decepticons won and Megatron had taken over Cybertron. What’s a tyrannical leader to do when he gets bored with his usual forms of entertainment?

Title: Entertainment

Pairing: MegatronXOptimus PrimexBumblebee

Requested: Tanisa Bumblebrasil (FF)

The war was over and the Decepticons had reigned victorious. Cybertron was now under their rule and the Autobots were prisoners of war. Everybot was terrified of incurring the wrath of the warlord, especially when he publicly executed Ultra Magnus before the High Council when they refused to bow to his demands. His hammer, which has once been the pride and strength of the Autobot fraction, was now his trophy of war. But despite everything he got bored very easily.

Megatron took to doing a number of things when the mood struck him: he would torture his prisoners, sometimes live before the terrified mechs and femmes of the planet to instill fear, or make them fight each other to the amusement of himself and the other ‘Cons in the arena as he was once forced to do, but there was one thing he hadn’t done that the others had. He had yet to take an Autobot to his berth and force them to pleasure him. He was above such acts of carnal pleasure and yet there was no denying how good it would be to have a former enemy of his forced to do as he ordered, to humiliate him. Thinking about it made his circuits warm and it didn’t take him long to realize who he wanted.

_‘Yes… they will do nicely,’_ he smirked even as he sent a command to the prison guards to bring up the unfortunate mechs.

An hour later he heard a ping at the door to his personal chambers and gave the command to enter. He smirked as he watched from the reflection of the window he was staring out of as the guards dragged in two Autobots, both of them covered in scuff marks, armor plating dented in places, servos bound behind their back plates, and each wearing an energized collar branded with the Decepticon symbol to show them as prisoners of war. The collars had energy leashes and the guards were not being gentle or kind as they tugged them roughly.

“Move your peds!” one of the guards snapped and gave the leash he was holding a rather hard yank, causing the small mech attached to it to yelp as he was pulled forward, making him lose his balance and crash to the floor with a loud klang.

“Leave him alone!” the other mech yelled and made to help the minibot up but as his own leash was tightened he tried fighting it, ignoring the feel of it digging into his neck cables. He winced as he was kicked in the back of his knee joints, forcing him to drop to the floor. Ignoring them he looked at his friend as he struggling to get up. “You alright, Bumblebee?”

“Yeah, boss bot,” he groaned, moving slowly he managed to get his stabilizers under his frame and slowly sat up on his knees, smirking a bit. “Even if they dent my faceplates in you gotta admit, I’ll still be better looking than any Deceptiscum.”

“You’ll pay for such insolence!” the guard hissed, holding the leash tightly he was prepared to beat the speedster’s helm in but stopped at the order of the warlord. “My lord?”

“Leave us,” he ordered, still looking out of the window. He could see the guards hesitant but silently glared at them via the window’s reflection. “Well?”

“A-Are you certain, my lord? They have tried escaping before,” he brought up. Even now they weren’t wearing stasis cuffs but had been bound with energy chains instead. Their lord had wanted them to be able to move of their own free will.

“I said leave us. But if you are so concerned with my well-being then wait outside the door. Until I say otherwise I want no interruptions. Am I understood?”

“… Yyyees, my Lord Megatron.” Warning the Autobots not to move unless ordered, they left, leaving the leashes still activated. Casting one last look the guards left the quarters. The two Autobots were frozen where they continued kneeling but as one tried to hide the fear in his optics the other was burning silently with rage. He had been there when this monster had killed Ultra Magnus and he swore from that moment on to kill him with his own servos. He was standing so close to the window, maybe, he could rush at him and push him out-

“Greetings Optimus Prime, Bumblebee. It’s been a long time so we last saw each other.” Neither of them said anything but he smirked as she slowly turned to face them, relishing in the look of fear in their optics. “The last time was the death of Ultra Magnus.”

“You murdered him when the High Council refused to listen to your demands,” Optimus snapped, feeling at the minibot press into him. He could tell he was scared by the way he trembled but he refused to show this monster any fear.

“I warned them that I was not to be taken lightly. And I knew if I had ripped out the spark of that pompous fool Sentinel they would not listen,” he explained calmly as though discussing the weather. Walking away from the window he made his way to where he kept his high-grade, knowing they were watching him, waiting for a moment to either strike at him or escape. “You have been giving my guards quite a deal of trouble. You should be so lucky not to be experiencing the fate of your so-called comrades.”

“Where are they?” Bumblebee demanded, trying not to flinch when those glowing red optics bore in his soft blues. “N-no one’s told us anything.”

“I ordered them not to, but I suppose it would be right for you to know since you are not likely to ever see them again.” Pausing for a moment he sipped at the cube of high grade, savoring the rich taste and slowly walked towards them as he processed the latest batch of reports. “Your medic is quite talented, he has been lucky enough to be working with the other medics in making certain my army is working at top proficiency. Though, his usage of foul language has gotten him in so much trouble I had no choice but to permanently silence him.” On command a screen turned on to reveal what looked like a med bay, Autobots-all bearing collars themselves-were forced on work on injured ‘Cons but the tired white and red form of Ratchet was seen. He looked defeated, exhausted, and an ugly thick scar marred his neck cables. As another medic came, speaking lowly he gestured with his hands instead of speaking.

“What did you do to him?” Optimus demanded. He had never seen the medic look so—defeated.

“He was warned repeatedly to keep a civil glossia around myself and my men. He refused and I was forced to teach him a lesson. Oh he still has use of his glossia, but he will never speak again.” Turning to the next video was of the large forest green form of their friend with the gentle spark, working in what appeared to be a laboratory but like Ratchet he looked exhausted as did the other scientists and engineers. “Your large friend was fortunate enough to be working on designing and building new weapons and making certain our network of space bridges remains operational.”

“Bulkie…” the yellow minibot whispered. He looked so tired but the moment he began moving too slow his collar gave him a very painful electrical charge, making him cry out in pain before getting back to work. His thick neck was covered in a mess of burnt scars. “Stop it! You’re hurting him!”

“He is not allowed to rest until my latest project is complete. Failure to obey results in a fitting punishment. He should be thankful he has not been used for manual labor.” Another video clip but this time revealing Sentinel and others building what appeared to be a large structure. Like the others he looked exhausted and beaten down but he had been stripped of his armor plating and his protoform was covered in a network of painful looking scars, including a matching scar across his throat similar to Ratchet’s. His frame arched in pain as an energy whip lashed over his back strut, causing a bleeding welt. He also showed them a video feed of Blurr being forced to work with Shockwave in intelligence and being a Decepticon messenger, his frame also covered in scars though not to the degree of Sentinel.

The jettwins, Jetfire and Jetstorm, now belonged to Starscream to do as he wished and although the warlord didn’t come out and say it, the seeker treated them as his personal berth slaves. Since they were recreated with his CNA they were his to do as he pleased and Megatron didn’t give a damn as long as he didn’t kill them. Jazz and Prowl were forced to train the soldiers to fight like them but they both belonged to Lockdown who force modified them to be his bodyguards and whatever else he demanded of them. All their friends were forced to work for the ‘Cons in one way or another and each one looked broken. There seemed to be no hope left.

Optimus couldn’t believe what he was seeing; perhaps it had been foolish but he was hoped, had prayed to Primus that somebot was fighting against the ‘Con’s tyranny, but what do? Magnus was dead, the council disbanded, and all who aligned themselves with the Autobots were nothing more than slaves. He didn’t realize he was trembling until he felt Bee press into him harder, whimpering in fear. He leaned into him, wishing he could wrap his arms around him but the chains were too tight. “Why are still here?” he asked in a tight vice.

Megatron smirked, looking them over. Some of their armor plating was gone, having been broken beyond repair but even so they continued to fight and resist whatever the guards threw at them. “I have found that my usually outlets for entertainment have become—a bore. I am in need of something new.”

“What makes you think we’ll do anything you demand of us?” The red and silver mech had had enough. He struggled to stand on his peds, daring to take a step towards the warlord despite the fact that he was still bound. “I will not stop fighting you even if it costs me my own spark! You are a monster, and one day your reign will be over and the bots of Cybertron will rejoice when you are executed! I swear thi-” He saw it coming, but he was so angry it had been slightly worth it to see Megatron lose his cool and back hand him. He was already weak due to low energon levels, his collar preventing him and the scout from experiencing a restful recharge, and their tanks begging for energon, he crashed to the floor with a reverting klang, moaning softly as the pain of a split lip component

“O-Optimus!” Bumblebee shouted, struggling to his own peds he squeaked in fear when he realized the leader of the Decepticons was standing before him. He took a step back, afraid of what he would do he couldn’t help but flinch as a black servo came out and gripped his chin tightly, holding him in place.

“I heard that the Cyber Ninja… Prowl was it? Would call out your designation… as did the one called Jazz, the green loaf Bulkhead, and even Blurr… you were such a popular mech… it makes me wonder, what did you do to garner their attention?”

“N-No-Nothing! They’re m-my friends!” he said quickly, trying not to whimper as the servo forced his helm back, making him bare his throat. He shut his optics tightly, thinking he was going to have it slashed like poor Ratchet but gasped as instead he felt a slick glossia trace the cable that pumped energon to his processor. “S-Stop it!” he whimpered, trying to pull away but an arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him into the silver gray frame tightly, keeping him from moving.

The surviving Prime managed to force himself into a sitting position, ignoring the feel of energon on his chin. He glared at the tyrannical monster taking advantage of Bumblebee’s vulnerable position. “Let him go, Megatron!”

The warlord didn’t acknowledge him as he continued licking and even sucking at the sensitive wires and cables, listening to the whimpers coming from the minibot. His servos roamed his small frame, undoing the latches holding the rest of his armor plating, flipping them open so he could remove the plating then tossed it to the side. His weapons had been long removed, as well as anything else that would enable him to escape, even his transformation cog so they were trapped in their root modes but without the bulky armor in the way he was eager to touch and caress his lithe protoform. Lifting his helm he smirked at the enraged look in the Prime’s optics but continued holding the minibot close to his chassis.

“Did you say something?” he asked calmly.

“Leave him alone! He doesn’t want you touching him!” he snapped, struggling to get to his knee joints but his system was running so slow!

“Hmm? But he hasn’t told me to stop.” Oh the scout had been telling him to “Please stop”, hush little whispers, breathless whimpers; all of it pleasing him but the icing on the oil cake was the deep set look of longing in the Prime’s optics. True Optimus didn’t want the Decepticon to be touching the minibot; no, _the Prime_ wanted to be the one running his blue servos over his protoform, to have him arching into _him_ , to make him cry out _his_ designation. Holding him close and making certain the Autobot was watching, Megatron moved his lip components to one of those small horns on the yellow helm and licked it, making the small mech cry out in obvious pleasure. Still smirking he slid his servos down and grasped his aft, rubbing and grabbing him roughly.

“I said stop it!!” Optimus yelled angrily, getting to his knees he shouted at the minibot to remember what he did to their friends, how they were the only ones left. He had lost everyone else, Bumblebee’s safety was the only thing that kept him going, that kept him fighting even if all hope seemed lost.

“Ngh… O-Optimus…?” Bumblebee whispered softly, resetting his optics he could see his commanding officer looking at him, begging him to remember what they had just seen, to not forget what they were still fighting for. His vision cleared and he was aware of being held intimately close to the warlord and that he had been stripped of his armor. He immediately flushed and struggled against him, leaning as far back as he could, ignoring the painful way his servos grabbed at him. “Frag off, you pervert! Let me go, don’t touch me!” he said angrily, ignoring the tingles of pleasure still running through his system, trying to kick at him despite it being pointless. “B-Boss bot!!”

“Keep fighting Bumblebee! Don’t give up!”

**“Silence!!”** Megatron shouted, his threat echoing in the large room he carried the minibot to the berth and roughly threw him down in the middle of it. Climbing atop of it and roughly pinning the scout down he sent a command to the collar and watched as the collar shocked him. Not enough to do permanent damage but enough to knock him off-line for a few blessed kliks.

“Bumblebee!!” No, no he couldn’t lose him! He had to keep fighting, he had to!

“Be silent! He’s not dead—yet.” Letting the threat hang Megatron rolled the minibot onto his front, breaking the energy chains bounding his servos he once more rolled him onto his back and using the leash, bound his servos to a ring at the wall his berth was pressed against. He had them just for such reason and never made use of them—until now. Sitting back he once more let his servos roam over the dark protoform, seeing that beneath the bulky, bright plating he really was small, a lithe frame that suited him perfectly.

“Lovely,” he murmured and lowered his helm, licking at the dark mesh, tracing cables and wires, listening to the soft moans, feeling him arch into him. He ignored the persistent shouts of the defeated Prime, sliding his glossia down, tracing the housing of the minibot’s spike, toying with him and feeling him slowly respond with a weak buck of his hips.

“Please stop! I-I’ll do anything just—please stop.” He couldn’t allow this madbot take Bumblebee like that, he couldn’t. The minibot was the last one left, and if Megatron took him… it would destroy him, he knew it. Optimus sagged on his knees in defeat; he would do anything to protect him, even submit to the warlord. He never heard him move and hissed as he was forced to stand on his knee joints, the collar forcing his helm up, the leash pulled taunt as he was forced to stare into the crimson optics of the tyrant. “… please…”

“Why should I, Autobot? I could easily take the minibot and frag him until he breaks, make you watch as the last of your team suffers at my servos, then leave you to rot in the prison. I assure you, my guards have taken quite a liking to the both of you and what kind of leader would I be if I didn’t let them indulge in some pleasure now and then?” he smirked.

Optimus couldn’t suppress the shudder of disgust. He had heard the guards talking, about how they would be the one to make Bumblebee scream in pleasure during interface, about degrading him to be a pleasure drone, but they didn’t dare incur their lord’s wraith. No, he couldn’t let them happen to them. “W-we won’t survive…” he began, shutting his optics tightly as he recalled a secret Bee had confronted to him, something they both shared but never told anybot due to fear. A secret he swore to take with him to the Well of the AllSpark.

Growing impatient Megatron pulled the leashed tighter, making the Prime jerk and look at him, this time with fear and terror in his optics. “Tell me, or I will throw you both to my men,” he growled.

“W-We’re carriers!” He had never wanted to be a carrier; oh he loved sparklings, he used to dream about having a family with many sparklings but when the Decepticons began appearing he begged Ratchet to prevent his coding from taking over; he had planned on having the code released from stasis once they had won the war. But that looked highly unlikely. He watched as the warlord stared at him, as if to see if he was lying to save himself but why tell him something so valuable? As far as he knew, there were no more carriers remaining; even femmes were rare among either fraction. The Prime yelped as a servo roughly groped between his stabilizers, forcing the thin panel aside and winced/moaned as a digit roughly probed his valve. He wasn’t sealed but it had certainly been a while since he had been touched.

“You’ve been touched,” he said in a low tone, watching the mech for any sign of lying. Of course he could call in the medics in here to find out the truth but having his greatest enemy before him, beaten down was such a delicious sensation. “And the minibot?” He chuckled when the Prime slowly shook his head with a look of shame. “Unicron has blessed me by keeping you two here instead of giving you to one of my men… oh how they begged me but I knew there was a reason I said no.” Grasping his chin he forced him to look at him but he was pleased to see a fire as the other mech pulled away from his servo, refusing to submit so easily. Chuckling darkly he stood back but gave the leash a hard tug, ordering him to stand. Unlike the guards he wanted until he was completely on his peds before pulling him to the berth. Ordering him to climb on he stood behind him and just like with the minibot began removing his broken armor. Some of the clasps were difficult to get to so he ordered the Prime to release them.

Optimus hated that he had given up both their secrets, but he couldn’t stand by and watch as Bee was raped and even impregnated. He knew it would destroy him to have no say in the matter. He cried out in pain as the collar shocked him but a firm hold on the leash kept him from falling over. Wincing at the threat he forced his system to release the clasps and winced as his own armor plating was removed and tossed aside.

“You both will never see those pieces of scrap ever again,” Megatron whispered into his audio, climbing behind him on the berth he let his servos roamed the silver protoflesh, tracing the ridges and feeling the cables tense beneath his caresses. “Lovely…” he murmured, letting them grasp his full hips he pressed his own frame close to his back struts, letting his engine rev he allowed the vibrations to flow into the bound mech. “I have a proposal for you, my dear Prime…”

“What makes you think I’ll listen to anything you say?” he asked coldly, staring down at Bumblebee. He looked so innocent sleeping there, unaware of how he had betrayed him.

“It concerns you and your lovely scout here.” Feeling him tense he knew he had his attention. “I will keep your secrets, no bot shall ever touch you save for me. But you must decided here and now: take the minibot’s seal, make him experience the bliss and pleasure from an overload… or watch as I take it and I can assure you, I will not be gentle but I will make certain he remains online and operational. What do you say?”

He-he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t take Bumblebee’s seals! The smaller mech had admitted that he would have liked to lose his seals to a mech he really liked, to be bonded to him and having sparklings that they could raise together. But, if he said no then Megatron would take him… at least with him, he could make certain it was good for him. Shutting his optics tightly he nodded. _‘Forgive me,’_ he whispered, gasping as he felt the energy chain binding his servos together fade, giving him the use of them once more.

“Try not to take too long or I may forget about our little agreement,” the silver gray mech warned as he climbed off the berth and instead sat in a chair off to the side, once more picking up his cube of high-grade and watched them. “Well?”

“Glitching slag-eating monster,” Optimus swore under his vents, cycling air heavily he slowly and carefully cralwed up and leaned over the bound minibot. “Bee… Bee, can you hear me?” he called out softly, reaching out and gently stroking a cheek ridge, hearing his system hum and watched as optics slowly opened, optics onlining.

“O-Opti-mus…?” He reset his optics and vocal cables, wincing at the processor ache. Seeing the dried energon on his leader’s lip component he made to reach out but froze when he discovered his servos were bound above his helm and he was missing all his plating. “B-Boss bot… what’s going on?”

“Bee…” he tried to stay strong, he really did but he couldn’t. His helm dropped down into his chassis and he wrapped his arms around him in a tight embrace, his systems trying to cycle the bursts of air as they became trapped. He was crying. “I’m sorry… I-I had no choice… I had to tell him. I had to!”

“Boss…” It took him a klik or two to realize what he meant and he felt hurt, betrayed, angry but hearing the warlord chuckling he knew he was more fragging pissed at him more than his leader. “It’s okay, I know you wouldn’t have told if you didn’t have a choice,” he said softly, wishing he could hug him back. “Boss… Optimus… look at me, please.” Slowly the blue helm lifted and he smiled softly at him. “it’s okay.”

“Bumblebee…” Primus, if only he could get him away from here, off Cybertron, he would do it and accept whatever happened to him. He reached up, gently stroking his cheek ridge with a digit, smiling softly as he leaned into his touch he moved slowly, hesitantly, and kissed the lips beneath him. He felt the scout stiffen in surprise, vents sputtering for air but after a few kliks he slowly began to kiss him back, flicking his glossia over the split lip, soothing the sting of pain with each swipe. The Prime had always wanted to confess his feelings to him, to hold him close and kiss him, to show him how much he really meant to him. Instead he was forced to perform to the tyrannical leader for his sick entertainment. It was enough to make him purge but he was determined to make Bee forget about everything and focus on him, to experience a processor-blowing overload.

Oh Primus his boss was a pretty good kisser! The minibot had a bit of a crush on the mech for a while, how he always tried to look out for him, giving him his own meager rations in prison, and even risked getting beatings from the guards when they got it in their processor to try and take him. Feeling him pull back slightly he could see his optics had grown darker, now a beautiful shade of deep blue he leaned up and once more licked at the slight injury, pressing his mouth to it and sucking softly, silently begging for him to keep kissing him. He did and he moaned as his glossia slipped into his mouth, letting them glide against one another.

He tasted so sweet, better than any oil cake or energon goodie, something that was just him. Gently tilting his helm back Optimus kissed and licked at the delicate cables along his throat. It was his turn to groan as Bumblebee tilted his helm back, baring his throat to him but he also let him slip a stabilizer between his own, grinding his thinly plated panel against his silver thigh and bending his own so he could grind against it. He sucked the cable harder, making Bee cry out his designation and slid a servo down his side, curling over his hip joint. He could feel his spike pressurize in its housing, ready to spring free but he held it back. He wanted Bee to feel pleasure first, he wanted him to enjoy every single astrosecond of it.

The warlord found the scene overly sweet, too soft for a battle hardened mech like himself, but there was a thrill as he watched the way the way the Prime moved, the way his thick frame covered the smaller one beneath him, how his hips moved as they grinded against the slender thigh slowly. He knew he had feeling for the smaller mech, ao he thought to use it to his advantage. Growling softly he watched as the Prime paused but didn’t look at him. Instead he moved his mouth lower, licking the protoflesh, tracing the slight ridges and seams. The way the minibot cried out, frame arching into him in such a wanton matter he felt his own frame heating up. Taking another deep sip of his high-grade Mgatron’s other servo reached down his heating frame, roughly tracing transformation seams, he gave the command to retract his cod piece and began to idly stroke his spike. He would have preferred to have both Autobots sucking at it, worshipping it with their glossia, begging him to overload on their faceplates.

_‘Next time,’_ he growled softly, watching as his entertainment continued.

Bumblebee moaned softly, arching his frame as much as he could. He tugged at the leash, wishing his servos were free so he could touch Optimus. He completely forgot about Megatron, forgot that they had lost the war, that everyone he knew and cared about were slaves, that their will had been broken. No, all he could think about was the pleasure of his Prime. He flushed as he felt servos sliding along his thighs, mudging them open with a silent question. He answered by spreading them open, looking down at him. Nodding he watched with vents stalling and nearly lost it as a slick glossia traced the housing of his spike, embaressment coloring his cheek ridges with the way his spike lurched free, a small seal at the tip.

“His spike has remained untouched as well? You Autobots continue to surprise me,” the new ruler of Cybertron chuckled, breaking the paradise the two had lost themselves in. “But hurry up and continue or I will make you watch as I take him before your optics, Prime.”

Optimus flinched, saying nothing. He couldn’t look up at Bee, knowing he wanted to ask what he meant. Instead he softly kissed the seal over his spike, licking it, lavishing it with attention. He held the slender hips down when they bucked up and continued licking. He could taste some of the transfluid slipped free from the seal, silently begging to be broken and touched some more. Wrapping a large servo only the tip was visible but it was enough for him. “Bee… I have to ask… do you want this?” he panted, struggling to remain in control.

“O-op-ti-mus…” his hissed, stressing his designation with each syllable.

“Please, just tell me!” Oh Primus, please say something, anything!

“Yes! Yes take my seal, take them both! Please!” he sobbed, trying to ignore the dark chuckle he cried out and once more struggled against the energy leash as the hot, wet, wonderful mouth closed over his tip and sucked hard. His voice broke with bursts of static, calling out the Prime’s designation, begging for more. He whimpered as the glossia probed at his seal, roughly stroking the hidden opening. He wasn’t even aware of the slight sting as it was broken, all he was aware of was an intense pleasure running through his system as he overloaded, trembling against the berth. The overload didn’t last too long but gazing down he whimpered at the sight of Optimus taking his spike even deeper into his mouth, wrapping his glossia around it and sucking hard, eagerly swallowing every drop of transfluid.

_‘Bee… Oh Primus, he tastes so sweet and innocent…’_ the blue-helmed mech thought, swallowing as he cables tightened around the slender spike, then wrapped his glossia as tightly as he could when he pulled up, trying to milk another overload from him. Slender stabilizers trembled, resisting the urge to wrap around his helm but so deep in his pleasure he never realized the warlord had gotten up, knealt at the head of the berth until he heard a muffled cry and looked up. He almost pulled off completely but froze when he saw the fusion cannon pressed firmly against his helm.

“Continue, or I eliminate you here and take your precious Bumblebee’s seal,” Megatron growled. His other servo clutched the minibot’s helm, having forced his spike into his mouth without any warning. His spike demanded attention and what better way than to train his soon-to-be berth slave then by showing him what he had planned for him. Watching as the Prime continued sucking he turned to the terrified blue optics, digging his digits into the plating and slowly pulled him back until only the tip remained. “You had better get used to the taste of my spike, sweet little Bumblebee, or you will watch as I kill your precious Prime and then I will frag you until I am satisfied. Understand?” Feeling him nod he smirked and stroked the small horns, listening to him let out a stuttering moan.

Primus, his spike was too damn big! He could have at least given him a klik to prepare, to brace himself. The springs in his jaw protested having his mouth forced so wide open, trying to ignore the taste of the warlord’s transfluid as it coated his tongue, sliding down the back of his throat. It was so bitter and oily, he hated it but he moaned and risked a look down, watching as Optimus continued to suck and lick at his spike, blue servos stroking his stabilizers. He whimpered in loss when he pulled his mouth off, still looking at him but his servo firmly began to stroke him, digits rubbing over the opening and smearing the transfluid along the length. His mouth was busy licking and sucking along the inside of his thigh, making him tremble. He focused on his tongue and quickly realized his glossia was tracing letters along the sensitive protoflesh; he was trying to tell him something.

L O V E Y O U B E E S T A Y S T R O N G

_‘Optimus…’_ He wasn’t sure if he could stay strong but he closed his optics and began to suck at the spike in earnest. It was still disgusting but he tried to imagine it was the Prime’s spike he was swallowing; it was him he was pleasuring. There was a deep rumble of an engine so he continued to pretend it was his Prime. Feeling the hips bucking he tried to get his jaw to relax, moaning softly he rubbed his glossia against the ridges, swallowing as more transfluid filled his mouth. He kept telling himself it was Optimus, that it was just the two of them and everything was fine.

So much transfluid covered his blue servo, making his digits slick, once more he took the spike into his mouth, swallowing it completely he reached down and gently traced the thin panel, silently asking for entrance. It immediately slid open and the Autobot leader moaned at the feel of hot, oily lubricant spilling freely. Gently he traced the rim of the minibot’s valve, letting him get used to his touch but when the hips bucked, stabilizers spreading as wide as they could, he pushed a slick digit inside. He was prepared for the stiffening, hips trying to pull away but he lavished soothing licks along his spike, stroking her other servo intoa smooth stabilizer, coaxing him to relax. The warlord didn’t seem to appreciate it when he tried to pull away from his spike and once more gripped his helm tightly, this time forcing him to swallow the entire length of his spike.

“The moment I feel your denta, I will forcefully remove them myself,” Megatron warned, engines revving darkly, his arm cannon warming up.

Bumblebee trembled and once more tried to relax, swallowing as fast as he could, gliding his glossia up and down the thick length of cable. The digit in his valve gently pushed its way in and out, brushing over hidden sensor nodes he moaned as it was removed and was soon pushing against two digits, then three, and finally four. There was a slight sting of discomfort but as he conitneud licking and sucking at the warlord’s spike he could feel another pending overload. He whimpered as the digits stroked and caressed his insides, rubbing at tense cables and nodes, twisting around to make sure he was prepared for the spike. His whimpers were growing more frantic, frame trembling under the onslaught, trying to warn him of an impending overload but it was no use. With a muffled cry he came, spilling lubricant and transfluid.

“Ngh!!” Feeling him trembling beneath him, his muffled cries vibrating around his spike, Megatron held the helm close and overloaded into his mouth, forcing him to swallow his transfluid or choke on it. After a few long kliks he forced the minibot’s mouth off and watchd as transfluid dribbled from the tip of his still pressurized spike, hitting the yellow mech in the faceplates. He looked good covered in it, he smirked. Oh yes, soon he would have him screaming his designation, begging for more. Pulling back he looked over at his other soon-to-be berth slave and smirked. “Hurry and take his seal, before I do it for you.”

“… yes, Lord Megatron.” Primus he hated the way it left a bitter aftertaste on his glossia but he was still determined to end his reign permanently. Sitting up on his knees, his own spike was fully pressurized and leaking so much transfluid; it longed to be buried in bee’s tight valve, to feel the slick cables tightening around him, to hear him cry out in pleasure. Optimus was surprised when he felt a servo wrap around it and for a moment though it was Bee’s, but the pleasure quickly wore off when he realized the warlord was kneeling behind him and was roughly stroking his spike, purposely digging the tips of his digits into the sensitive protoflesh. “W-What?!”

“I don’t like to be kept waiting, Prime. So allow me to help you with this,” he growled into his audio, letting his own oral fluid coated spike to rub against the closed panel, enjoying the feel of hot metal and smirking as he felt a slick wetness. “Has sucking your little scout’s spike made you so wet?”

“N-Ngh!!” Oh fragging Pitt! He didn’t realize he had gotten so wet and as much as he hated himself, his system was ready to let the thin panel slid open. _‘N-Need to focus, on Bee!’_ reaching out he stroked the slender thighs, sliding up to grasp at slender hips and pulled him close. He hated the way Megatron purred at how delicious the minibot looked, saying how he longed to bury his spike in him and fill his tank with his transfluid. He also hated the way he aligned his spike with the valve, finally removing his digits but his optics widen as he grabbed the slender hips and with no warning, pull him down at the same time he forced his hips in. Then, all he heard was the sharp burst of static as Bumblebee’s seal was roughly taken.

Oh fragging slag-filled Pitt, it hurt! It hurt so much! Bee weakly tugged at the energy leash; tried twisting his frame away but the sharp servos griped his hips harder, bruising protoflesh. Weak sobs filled his frame and he flinched when he felt gentle servos stroking his sides, a soft voice apologizing, warm lips tenderly kissing his receiver and sensory horn. “H-H-hur-rts-s-s,” he stuttered weakly, whimpering as the spike rubbed against a suddenly raw node, feeling any remains of his seal falling away.

“I know, Primus I know, Bee… I’m sorry,” Optimus whispered softly, ignoring the warlord’s growl and wrapped his servo around him as tightly as he could. “I didn’t want to do it this way; I wanted to take my time. I wanted you to get pleasure from this, not pain. I’m so sorry, Bee.

“Op… ti… musss…” That’s right; he-he wasn’t trying to hurt him. He just didn’t want the Decepticon to hurt him. Slowly, almost timidly, he leaned into the Prime, once more wishing he could just wrap his arms around him, to cling to him and wish this was all just one spark-breaking nightmare. He shivered as he felt ful lips press into his cheek ridge, then his fore helm, and his chin; he tilted his faceplates to him, optics still dark in pleasure. “K-kiss me.”

“Bee…” This was no gentle kiss as lip components roughly glided against one another, the kiss hungry, almost desperate. Optimus just wanted to make him forget about the pain, the terror, the humiliation, to focus on him and the pleasure he managed to bring him to. He wanted to bring him to such heights once more, to make him beg for more. He swallowed his soft whimpers of want, servos greedily roaming his bared frame, digging digits into seams and making him cry out in pleasure, arching into him. Growling almost possessively he pried the dark servos off Bee’s hips, stroking the rapidly forming bruises, he slowly withdrew his spike until only the tip remained then slowly slid back in. He groaned as his scout shuddered under him and twisted his helm to the side, crying out his designation in pleasure.

“A-Again!” he begged, crying out as he did so. He longed to wrap his stabilizers around him, to pull him close but he couldn’t. Instead Optimus had them drapped over his arms so he was spread open for him. Gentle servos continued to knead his hips and waist, thrusting in slowly but deeply, his spike stroking and soothing sensitive nods. “P-Prime! Oh Prime!”

The Decepticon leader watched the sight before him intently. The two were so in tune with each other, losing themselves in the obvious pleasure. It was a sight worthy of such a leader as himself but as he mentioned before he did not like being ignored. These Autobots needed to be reminded that they belonged to him and only him. He grasped the silver hips roughly, digging his digits into them roughly, making the Prime wince in pain but he didn’t care he leaned over and growled into his audio.

“Open.” He felt him tremble and smirked, feeling the panel slid open. Positioning himself he moaned as he aligned his spike them forced it inside, ignoring the almost inaudible cry of pain. He savored the feeling, the tightness and heat, thinking for a moment that he had lied about being sealed but as he roughly pulled the hips back and forced the entire length of his spike in, he meet no resistance of a seal. He did growl in triumph as the mech beneath him cried out in pain, frame trembling but he didn’t care as he savored the almost crushing feeling of his greatest enemy’s valve wrapped tightly around his spike; it was trying to push him out but all it did was draw him deeper inside. Sitting back on his knee joints he began to force the hips back and forth, growling as his spike was roughly caressed and in turn, causing Optimus’ spike to be pulled out and pushed into the minibot’s broken valve. His pained cries were the sweetest sound to his audios and reveled in it.

It hurt, oh it hurt it hurt it fragging Pitt hurt! Had it really been that long since he had taken a spike inside? Apparently so but instead of gripping the bruised his the young Prime tried digging his digits into the smooth metal of the berth, tried to distance himself from being violated. _‘But-aah!-as long as-fragger!-it’s not-ngh!-not B-Bee-uhh!-I’ll be fine-aah fragging slagger!’_ He nearly collapsed on the minibot beneath him, swallowing back whimpers as the thick spike forced its ay in and out, a combination of transfluid, lubricant, and energon making it slick. He let his helm drop down, optics shut tightly, ignoring the crushing feeling on his hips.

“O-Optimus… look at-at me…”

He couldn’t, it hurt too much. It wasn’t suppose to hurt; he never wanted to hurt him!

“Please… don’t leave me alone…”

Leave him…? … no. No. He forced his optics open and peered into blue optics, a dark beautiful shade of blue, optics that refused to give up, refused to be broken. “B-Bee…” he whispered hotly, cringing as the warlord began to move faster, now grunting along as he slammed into his aft, eager to fill his tank with his transfluid, to make him carry his sparkling. He grinded his denta together, digits denting the berth, afraid to touch his scout least he hurt him. “I-I can’t hold-”

“M-me either… oh Prime… focus, on me… only me…” he panted, leaning up as much as he could and sucked on his bottom lip once more, purposely licking the still raw wound. He needed him; if he was going to survive he needed his Prime with him. He needed somebot to fight for, to live for. Bee whimpered as his system warned him of another overload, one so strong he would surely crash. He didn’t care and accepted it, clutching as the spike pounded away inside him, his own spike being roughly caressed by their withering frames; his cries were getting frantic, trying to warn him of his overload but it hit him so hard he fall back onto the berth and let out another scream, static breaking it up. His valve clenched around the Prime’s spike roughly, coating it with so much lubricant he could feel it seeping out of the tight seal it made. His spike couldn’t take anymore and exploded in a burst of transfluid, coating their withering frames, even spreading up their chassis. His fans struggled to keep his system from overheating, static filling his display, warnings turned everything red but he struggled to remain online just a bit longer, eager to feel his love overload inside him.

On the heels of his beloved scout’s overload Optimus couldn’t stop it and shouted as he filled his tanks with transfluid, letting the tight cables milk every drop it could. His own fans were overheating, struggling to make sure he didn’t overheat and fry circuitry but he winced as he felt the warlord’s spike moving harder and faster, making the both of them cry out. _‘H-hurry up and-overload!’_ he cursed, refusing to look back and focused completely on the minibot.

The Deceptcon leader wanted to savor the feeling for a bit longer, to frag the Prime and the scout until their tanks were nearly bursting with his transfluid, to ensure their carrier coding was activated so they would be carrying his sparklings. With the image so fresh on his processor he let out a loud roar as he slammed into Optimus’ valve, burying his spike completely inside and emptied every bit of transfluid inside. He could feel the pressure threatening to push his spike out but he dug his digits into the already bruised hips, causing them to bleed slightly but he didn’t care. Once he felt he had no more to give he released the hips and watched as they collapsed, his spike slipping free. A mix of fluids stained the berth and their lower frames, making for quite a delicious sight but he growled when he received a ping.

_‘Now what?’_ he snapped irritably as he climbed off the berth.

Optimus winced in pain but he shifted around slowly, pulling back he groaned as his own spike slid free from Bee’s valve, making him wince. He was still struggling to remain online, for him. “Bee…” Looking up he crawled to the head of the berth, tugged at the energy leash until it came loose from the mount of the wall. He unwrapped it from Bee’s servos, softly kissing the bruised marks before laying down and pulling him to his chassis, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “Bee…” he whispered once more, feeling him weakly nuzzle his neck, tucking his helm under his chin.

“Optimus…” he whispered softly, clinging to him as tightly as he could. “Love you, boss bot…” He finally succumbed to the need to recharge, confident that his Prime from protect him even during recharge.

Optimus smiled, ready to close his optics and fallow him into recharge but he jerked when he heard the warlord snarl something angrily, clutching the minibot even closer.

“Slagging glitches! Must I do everything myself?!” he ranted to no bot in particular. Having cleaned himself with a damp cloth and his spike once more tucked away behind his cod piece he turned his attention to the two Autobots and smirked. “It would seem I am needed elsewhere, but do not worry. I will return later.”

Blue optics narrowed but didn’t dare move away from the other mech. “What does that mean for us?” he asked.

“You two will remain here. Of course, my doors will be locked since I do not trust my men not to rape you so you will not have the honor of a guard, but more will be discussed later.” He made to turn and leave but not before lifting his arm cannon and turning the rest of their armor into nothing more than shattered pieces of scrap metal. “Even if you managed to get out, I highly doubt you would want to leave in nothing but your bared protoforms. That would surely entice more than one of my men to have their way with you.” Chuckling darkly he left, making certain that no one save for him would be able to enter the chambers upon his return.

The defeated Prime frowned but he was too tired to care. Laying back on the berth he grabbed the sheet and finding a portion that wasn’t soaked in their fluids, covered the both of them with it. He knew they would need a good washing but he didn’t have the spark to wake Bumblebee up. Venting air quietly he tightened his arms around his scout and drifted into recharge, the lights in the room automatically turning off after a breem.

The Autobots were gone, the High Council scattered in the nebulous winds, Ultra Magnus dead, and his team and allies broken, but if he and Bee could still find the fire to fight, to hope, then maybe… just maybe… they would stand a chance.

Perhaps, there was hope for them after all.

**Author’s notes:** Chapter three is here to stay! Woot! Freaking hell I did it! As you noticed, this was a threesome and this takes place on what may be the results of the Autobots if Megatron won the war. Basically he took over Cybertron, killed those who were a big threat, and turned the Autobots into saves. Now I know some of you are asking about Sari and Earth and the Dinobots. Um this is a one-shot focusing mainly on the pairing. Also, I originally wasn’t blaming on having BOTH Bee and Optimus be carriers, but why else would Megatron keep them both alive? The mech apparently needs a reason to keep someone online as opposed to dead. So, hope you enjoyed it and I will be posting the other chapters soon as I can! Okay love you bye bye!


	5. LockdownxBumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lockdown would never admit he was jealous of the failed Cyber Ninja, not until he saw the way the yellow minibot looked at him in such a loving way. No, he wasn’t jealous. But whatever the bounty hunter wanted, he always got.

**Disclaimer:** Transformers: Animated and everything related belongs to the rightful company Hasbro. I am in no way shape or form making money off this.

**Author’s Notes:** Lockdown would never admit he was jealous of the failed Cyber Ninja, not until he saw the way the yellow minibot looked at him in such a loving way. No, he wasn’t jealous. But whatever the bounty hunter wanted, he always got.

Title: What’s Yours Is Mine Now

Pairing: LockdownxBumblebee; light ProwlxBumblebee

Requested: SparkySparkfire (FF)

Lockdown was a mech of many talents and skills. He was a master of the ancient Cybertronium art of Metallikato, no bounty had ever escaped his servos, and he always had the latest and most powerful mods around. There wasn’t a bot functioning who he couldn’t deal with and he was also one of the most wanted ‘Cons ever. There was nothing lacking in his cycle and he was content.

He _was_ content, until he spotted **him**.

Red optics narrowed as he watched the sleek black and gold frame sitting in the middle of the area he had heard the organics call a park. It was still early, the sun was just beginning to rise, and there was no one around. It would be so easy to capture him and finally have his jump-jets and holo-projector for his own. But before he could move something caught his optic.

Bumblebee was moving as slow as he could manage, slipping between the trees, doing his best to be quiet. Peering around a tree he smirked when he saw he was behind the sitting ninja and knew he had him. _‘Just be quiet, watch your step, and act stealthy.’_ He moved from his spot of the trees and began moving, ready to tackle him. “Gotcha-!” he shouted, lunging at the quiet form only for him to go right through a hologram. The minibot managed to catch himself before he ate a mouthful of dirt and stared at the wavering image. “Prowl! That’s not fair!” he said angrily, quickly getting to his peds. “You said no holograms!”

There was a soft chuckle in the air as the holoimage vanished, causing the yellow mech to look around for the source. “You said I shouldn’t use them, Bumblebee.” There was a very brief rustle of leaves in the trees, causing the mech to look up just in time for the hidden ninja to make himself known only to pin said yellow bot to the ground. “I never agreed.”

“But you cheated! That doesn’t count!” he protested, trying to push him off but found his servos pinned on either side of his helm. “G-Get off! I don’t wanna be stealthy anymore!”

“You were doing very well, I almost didn’t see you until it was too late,” he complimented, smiling down at him. “Next time, don’t shout when you’re about to strike.”

“Yeah I get it, get off.” He looked away from him, still hating the fact that he had used his projector like that. Hearing him sigh and release his servos he waited and as soon as he felt him stand Bee scrambled into a crouched position and lunged at him, this time successfully pinning him to the ground. “Now I gotcha!” he said proudly.

Prowl blinked behind his visor but smiled, nodding to him. “I did tell you to try and take me down, so I suppose this means you win.”

“Yes! I win!” Finally, he finally beat the Cyber Ninja! Still sitting on him he leaned down, smirking slightly. “Didn’t you say if I won you’d give me a prize?”

“I did… do you have something in mind?” he asked, lifting his servos and resting them on his hips, watching the way his cheek ridges heated up with a blush.

“Maybe…” Damnit, why did his touch have to make feel so hot? Leaning down he pressed his lip plates to the ninja’s and moaned softly into the kiss. Bee enjoyed these private moments together, even if everyone else thought they were training (and they were) but no one knew they were together like this. Feeling Prowl’s glossia lick at his bottom lip he opened his mouth and moaned louder, pressing his frame into the one beneath as servos began moving beneath his yellow plating to stroke at tense wires.

“Will you look at that,” the bounty hunter muttered to himself. He had seen the minibot in action and knew that he wanted his stingers for his own, but he didn’t know that Prowl was in a relationship with him. For one thing the failed ninja seemed too serious and aloof to form any sort of attachment with anybot yet here he was, making out with the yellow mech. Said mech acted like such a sparkling but he certainly wasn’t acting like one right now.

Prowl moaned lowly as he sat up, his glossia mapping out the inside of his lover’s mouth, servos firmly stroking his back strut before they grasped at his aft, clutching him close as yellow arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss. He felt so hot, the friction of their pelvic armor rubbing against each other, his cod piece ready to snap open but he stopped and slowly pulled away when he felt the scout freeze. “Bumblebee?” he asked a bit breathlessly, concerned.

“I-I’m sorry, Prowl… it’s not you, it’s… I…” Why the Pitt couldn’t he just open up for him? He loved him! He wanted him to be the one to take his seal! He shut his optics tightly and hid his faceplates into the side of his neck cables, hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay, Bee, I told you I’m willing to wait,” he said softly, holding him tightly his servo stroked the back of his helm lovingly. He knew he wanted to but when they got to this point he would freeze. The mech even told him to just take him, that he really wanted it but he couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to hurt him. Slowly the ninja lay back on the grass, still holding the minibot tightly atop of him. It didn’t take him long to drift in a light recharge that he had to smile. He meant what he said, he would wait as long as he had to until he was ready. “I love you, Bee.”

“Mmm… love you, Prowler…” came a soft, sleepy response, the small engine rumbling softly. The sleek mech chuckled softly and continued to hold him close. Before drifting to recharge he set his chronometer to wake them up in an hour. He never realized that he was being watched from the lingering shadows of the tree line.

Lockdown had seen and heard everything, and an evil smirk spread across his lip plates. He wanted revenge against Prowl for humiliating him, and he was determined to get those wonderful mods from him, but he was looking forward to taking the minibot away from him as well. He was going to leave him with nothing and him with everything.

“What’s yours will soon be mine, Prowler,” he smirked as he silently left the sleeping pair. He had a plan to set into motion.

* * *

The streets of Detroit were unusually quiet, there were barely any cars out tonight. Prowl didn’t like it one bit but he also didn’t like the fact that he had answered the private comm link from the last mech he ever wanted to hear from.

_“Hey Prowl, long time no see.” He could almost hear the smirk in Lockdown’s voice. “Listen, we got a score to settle and unless you want me to come to your place you’ll meet me at the docks midnight tonight. We’re gonna settle this like real mechs. Or… I can settle it with that minibot of yours. Bet I can make him beg for a good, hard frag since you’re not enough of a mech to just take it.”_

He had been so mad he nearly punched a hole in his tree. He was prepared to ignore the bounty hunter as he had no interest whatsoever in settling any sort of score, but he was not going to let him anywhere near his love!

“Prowl? You alright?”

He whirled and cursed himself for not noticing the scout earlier. “I-I’m fine, why are you asking?” He resisted the urge to cringe; why was he lying to him like this?

“You look really mad. I tried knocking but you didn’t answer,” he explained and took the remaining steps towards him, his soft blue optics full of worry and concern. “Is, this about this morning?”

“What? No, of course not!”

“Cuz I really wanted it, I know you wanted it too but I can’t get myself to open-”

“Bumblebee-”

“-and you said you’re willing to wait but it’s not fair ‘cuz you’re suffering-”

“Please listen-”

“-and I even told you to open my panel but you said no and-” Whatever he was going to say was stopped as his servos were grabbed and lips pressed against his own. Cheek ridges were heating up but after a klik he was soon kissing him back, losing himself in it. After a few kliks it stopped and he looked up in the faceplates of his ninja bot. “Prowl?”

“I could never be mad at you, Bee,” he said softly, reaching up and gently trailing his digits along his cheek, smiling as he leaned into his servo. “I meant what I said, I’m willing to wait however long it takes for you to trust me.”

“But I do trust you!” Was that why he couldn’t open his interface panel? No, that wasn’t right! He trusted him when they were fighting, so how could he not trust him in the berth?

“I’m still willing to wait. And I’m not mad at you… I,” the ninja paused, fighting with himself on telling him the truth or not; “I… just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Prowl…” moving closer Bumblebee wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him down, this time kissing him boldly, moaning softly as he felt him hold him tightly. “Nothing’s gonna happen, ninja bot. I love you.”

“I love you, my Bee.”

It had taken a lot of convincing to get the yellow mech to sleep in his own room tonight and then he had to be careful to leave the factory without being heard or seen. Parking Prowl allowed his hologram to fade and transformed into his root form. The dock was completely quiet, a light fog covering the docks but nothing he couldn’t handle. There was no sign of the bounty hunter or his ship, but then again his ship could be disguised as one of the warehouses just like before.

_‘I’ll give him one hour, and if he’s not here then I’m leaving and telling Optimus,’_ he told himself. He was not going to risk Bumblebee’s spark to some deranged Decepticon who enjoyed taking “trophies” from those he caught. _‘One hour.’_

He silently began counting down the kliks, waiting and listening for any sign of the bounty hunter. He even slipped into a light meditated state if only to keep his processor calm. It was working and before he knew it the hour was nearly up and yet there was no sign of the mech anywhere. Snorting he shook his helm.

_‘Why did I think he would keep his word? He’s the one who called me out here,’_ he thought. He made to transform and head back to the factory when he heard something in the darkness. Immediately he fell into a battle stance and held his servos out. “Is that you, Lockdown?” he called out but there was nothing. Frowning he moved to the sound, his receivers on high. There was a loud crash but just as he was about to enter the dark space between the warehouses only to watch as a filthy cat ran out of the darkness, hissing angrily as it disappeared into the fog. “Strange...” he murmured, thinking back to what he had seen on the entertainment screen about the behavior of these ‘”animals”. He failed to notice a pair of red optics in the darkness, a smirk gracing the hidden faceplates even as he lifted his servo and took careful aim.

There was the faint sound of something whizzing through the air following by something connecting with his back plates but it was quickly followed by a powerful shock. Error messages filled his display screen, circuits being fried, unable to deal with the sudden charge his processor crashed and his frame felt so heavy. He fell onto the ground with a loud crash, optics beginning to dim as he heard ped steps from behind him and a familiar (muffled) chuckle his receivers picked up.

* * *

Bumblebee frowned as he tried peering through the fog but it was too dark to make anything out and the meager lights was of little help. Once more he had to keep himself from turning on his headlights. _‘Be stealthy, mech.’_ He had to remember all the training the ninja taught him, and once he found him then he would demand some answers from him. How dare he take off somewhere in the middle of the night without telling him! Was he trying to make him worry like this?

That was another thing, the ninja bot was crazy for all this organic stuff so why was he all the way out here? At night? It didn’t make any sense but he carefully drove around the buildings but as he turned a corner he froze and as quietly as possible, pulled back. _‘I think I saw Lockdown.’_ Transforming he peered around the corner and quickly, pulled his helm back. _‘It is! It is Lockdown!’_ he only remembered stories from Ratchet and Prowl and just by looking at him he could tell the mech was bad news. But he was also carrying something but he couldn’t make it out too well. Frowning, the yellow mech began to follow him, doing his best to keep as quiet as possible, hiding behind corners and even managed to scale the tight space between two buildings when the Decepticon came back.

“…” Humming lowly he turned, keeping the off lined Cyber Ninja over his shoulder. “Better check my audio receivers before we leave, right Prowl?” he chuckled, heading to his disguised ship.

_‘Prowl!’_ Soft blue optics were wide but Bumblebee stayed high up between the two buildings, trying to keep his fans from kicking on or giving any indication that he was here. If the ‘Con had looked up he probably woulda seen him but there was just enough light for him to make out the limp frame of his lover. Moving slowly he dropped to the ground and continued following him. _‘Don’t worry Prowl, I’ll get you outta there,’_ he thought to himself, filled with determination.

In the back of his processor he was certain his Prowler would be very happy at the way he was acting all stealthy and quiet, just like he had been trying to teach him. Of course that would be after he got mad at him for doing something stupid and dangerous like rescuing him without back-up. Pushing that aside he watched as the bounty hunter went up to a human warehouse and managed to keep the gasp from escaping his vents as the building faded away to reveal a large dark red ship. He vaguely remembered Ratchet talking about it and watched intently as he made his way inside. Giving it several kliks he moved forward, frowning he reached up for the panel but he didn’t know the code to get in. Bringing his servo up he allowed it to transform into a stinger and allowed a small amount of electricity to short it out, allowing him to get inside.

_‘Trusty stinger, never leave home without one!’_ Grinning to himself he ended the ship, Death’s Head. He remembered the first time he heard the name of the ship and told Sari. She remarked that it sounded like the name of something called a heavy metal band. But creeping around the inside he felt that the name was aptly suited. He shivered hard enough for his yellow plating to rattle and forced himself to move. _‘The sooner I find Prowl, the sooner we can get outta here!’_

He moved carefully, peering around corners before coming across a room where he could hear talking. Pressing himself close to the doorway he peered inside and felt the energon in his cable freeze in place. The Cyber Ninja was strapped to a table and the mod hunting ‘Con was grabbing something from across the room, humming something under his vents but the minibot quickly pulled his helm back as he turned around.

“Still sleeping... wakey wakey, Prowler,” Lockdown smirked as gave the bound mech a small charge to bring him back online. After all, what fun was there to be when his “trophies” didn’t realize they were in deep slag?

A low groan of pain was heard as the slender mech’s optics on-lined. Thankfully the room had dim lighting but his processor ached and he felt as though he couldn’t move most of his frame. He winced when he saw and heard a great deal of stasis but as he reset them both he wished her hadn’t and grew tense when the faceplates of Lockdown hovered over him. “W-Wh-What di-id you do-o?” he asked, wincing at the amount of static escaping his vocalizer.

“I haven’t done anything. Yet. But I’m glad to see you came after all,” he chuckled and reached out to tap at his holo-projector with the tip of his hook, tracing the insignia with a sharp shriek of metal. “I thought you would be too busy playing with that sweet minibot of yours.”

His denta ground together as the sharp sting of the scratch but he refused to let him think he had him. “Wh-What are y-you talk-talking ‘bout?” There was still some static remaining but he merely reset it once more. He also looked around and frowned. “This-s is your sh-ship.”

“Very observant! Not much for redecorating but I assure you, I’m not without my trophies,” he grinned and reached down to pick up a sharp-looking tool. Humming lowly he pressed a button and watched as the table seemed to break away, moving the ninja so he was now being held in mid-air, his stabilizers tightly held out with no chance of escaping. Moving so he was standing behind him he reached out and traced his hook down the side of one of his jump-jets. “I saw you with that yellow teammate, the one with the stingers. I didn’t know you liked them young.”

The Cyber Ninja tried very hard not to say or give away anything but he could feel his servos tightening into fists. “Bumblebee is a good friend, not that any of this should matter to you,” he said coolly.

“Good friends, hmm? Didn’t realize good friends swapped oral fluids the way you two did.” Leaning into him he began tracing the laser scalpel over one of the jets, pausing when he felt the frame twitch. “Try not to move, I don’t wanna damage my new upgrades.”

“They aren’t yoursss,” the ninja hissed, trying to ignore the pain of his frame being cut into but the bounty hunter’s words were repeating themselves in his processor, causing his spark to pulse erratically in his chassis. “You were sp-hisss!-spying on usssss?” he demanded, once more flinching as the laser burned through the sensitive wiring and plating.

“The organics call it a “stake out” but yeah, I saw the two of you together,” he remarked as he removed the scalpel to make sure the jet wasn’t damaged before cutting around the other side, thinking back to the impromptu show he had witness earlier that solar cycle. “Never thought that minibot was worth any extra attention, but I wonder if he’s that good in the berth.” He smirked as the jet fell but he caught it before it could get damaged and moved away from his victim to set it on a table nearby, taking a moment to look it over. “Oh wait, you haven’t taken him yet.”

From his hiding spot the Autobot scout couldn’t help but feel energon rushing to his cheek ridges; what business was it of his? _‘Geez, why he’s gotta be such a slagging perv?’_ he thought to himself and carefully peered around the corner once more. He winced as the ‘Con went back to removing the other jump jet from his victim’s backplates; Prowl looked so much in pain but he was trying to be strong. Bee could hear them talking but he knew he couldn’t get to him from the front. That was just plain—well, stupid! Optics blinked when he noticed what looked like vents along the ceiling and there was a vent open just where Prowl was. Okay, hopefully that was another way in, but how was he going to distract the pervy mech? Pulling back Bumblebee looked at his servos, wondering if he still had time to go outside and send an emergency comm to the others when an idea come to mind. Oh yes, that could work. But he had to be quick and as quiet as a glitchmouse.

_‘Hang on, Prowler. I’ll get you outta here,’_ he thought as he slipped down the corridor.

Lockdown smirked as he looked over the set of jets. They were in fine working order and wouldn’t be that hard to incorporate into his system. He would have to clean them up, maybe a new paintjob but that could wait. He still had one more item to harvest. “If you want my opinion-”

“I never ask for such a thing!” the Cyber Ninja couldn’t help but snap angrily the table once more shifted back to its original flat surface, ignoring the sting of his carved back plates touching the cold, hard surface.

“-sounds like that minibot just needs a real mech to give him a good, hard frag.” He smirked at the look of rage that was now open on the sleek mech’s faceplates. “I bet, he likes it rough, pinned to the berth, crying out as a large spike splits him open. Just a couple of thrusts and he’ll be begging for more, deeper, faster, _harder_.”

“Don’t you dare talk about Bumblebee like that!!” he said angrily and couldn’t help but cry out in pain as the medical tool made a deep, burning mark in his chassis, carving a hole around his holo-projector to be removed. Oh Primus it hurt! He could feel wires burning, circuits smoldering, plates melting. He could ignore the pain in his back struts since he didn’t have as many sensors but his chassis was a different matter.

“Don’t worry your helm, Prowler. Once I’m done I think I just might visit your little Bumblebee and take what he’s been offering you. Show him what a real mech can do-”

The lights suddenly went off with no warning, bathing the room in darkness before the dim red glow of the emergency lights came on. Growling under his vents he set the scalpel down and moved over to the small console. He tried to find out what was going on but for some reason the display was showing stasis and a slew of error messages. “Guess my ship’s in need of upgrades itself,” he muttered darkly. Oh well, least he knew a mech who would give him just what he was looking for. “Don’t go anywhere, Prowler, I’ll be back and I can tell you all the things I have planned for that sweet-aft minibot.” Chuckling he left the room, his peds echoing as he walked down the corridor.

He was so mad, ignoring the pain from his sensors he struggled against the restraints, tried to pull a servo loose but he was strapped down too tightly. He noticed that laser scalpel was right now to him but unfortunately it was just out of his reach. Still he tried, all the while praying to Primus that he would keep watch over his sweet scout.

“I promise Primus, if I escape from here I will never keep a secret from Bumblebee,” he muttered under his vents, cursing lowly when the tips of his digits just barely brushed over the scalpel.

“I’m gonna hold you to that, ninja bot!” The vent in the ceiling opened and a soft yellow mech slowly lowered himself out before landing on the floor next to the table. Bumblebee was smiling but it was quickly lost when he noticed a growing puddle of oil and some energon beneath his lover. Looking around he saw the stripped jump jets sitting on a table and turned wide optics to the mech before him. “Prowl...”

“B-Bumblebee? What, are you doing here?” he asked. He was glad he was okay but why was he here? How did he know where he was? He watched as his servo transformed into his stinger and he shorted out the restraints, freeing him. He slowly sat up with a low hiss, bringing a hand to the deep cuts made in his chassis.

“I followed you. Why didn’t you tell me Lockdown was here? You shoulda told Optimus or even Ratchet!” he said, watching him get up from the table but was quick to support him when he swayed uneasily on his peds. Bee hated the look of damage on Prowl’s frame and lovingly touched the marks on his chassis as he slid one of his arms around his shoulder plates. “Primus... why is he doing this?” he asked softly.

“Bee... y-you need to—get out of—h-here... Lockdown—will come—af-ter you...” he tried explaining but the minibot was already walking, refusing to let him go as they slowly moved around the table.

“I heard. He’s such a perv,” bee muttered, helping him out of the room. He tried to remember the way he entered and began walking down the corridor, refusing to let go of his love no matter how much he protested. “I, I think the door’s this way,” he said at a fork, looking down one end than the other before moving. “Yeah, this way. I hope.”

“Bee... the lights—was it you?”

“Yeah. I somehow found the breaker panel by following all the wires and gave it a good zap. Almost didn’t work so I zapped it again and nearly shocked myself,” he grinned. It reminded him of the time the base had experienced what Sari had called a “rolling blackout” during a heavy storm one solar cycle and he thought a good zap from his stingers would help the power stay on. Unfortunately all he did was short out the panel, frying most of the wires in the process. He was without his precious TV and video games for solar cycles! The glow from the emergency lights began blinking, making the two pause before they went out only to be replaced by the dim lights of the ship once more. “Slag! I thought i had more time!”

“Aren’t you full of surprises, minibot,” came the bounty hunter’s vocalizer over the ship’s audios. “Didn’t realize you were that eager to meet me. Can’t say I’m not a bit disappointed though, I enjoy chasing down my targets almost as much as I enjoy removing their wonderful mods.”

“Shut up! I came for Prowl, not you, you—Frankenstein!” He probably didn’t understand the Earthly insult, but being made up of stolen parts he may as well be that creepy monster only in a mech’s frame. “Anyway, just you wait! Our team is gonna come for us and we’re gonna kick your aft all the way back to Cybertron!”

“Then I’d better hurry and finish what I started.” The lights were turned off, bathing the entire ship in darkness. Bumblebee couldn’t help it as he let out a surprised squeak, clinging to his lover tightly. Prowl frowned even as his own servos wrapped around his scout tightly.

“Calm down, Bee. He’s trying to scare us into panicking,” he said lowly as he turned on his headlights.

“I-I’m not scared,” Bee muttered but activated his lights as well. Frowning he looked around and bit down on his lower lip component. “I-I think we’re lost. But don’t worry, I’m gonna get you outta here and take you to Ratchet, he’s gonna fix you right up.”

“No, Bumblebee. You need to leave me and get out of here before Lockdown can get his hook on you.” But the yellow mech refused to listen and began pulling him down the hall, refusing to let him go even for an astrosecond. He tried to stand on his own peds and he managed but as they ended up down another dead-end he froze and looked towards the darkness.

“Slag! I really thought the door was this way!” the speedster frowned, resisting the urge to kick the wall in front of him. “His ship can’t be that big, can it?”

Prowl didn’t answer but he turned his receivers on high. He had heard something just a klik ago... “Bee...” he said lowly, holding his servo out as though to protect him.

“I got it! We went left instead of right!”

“Listen-”

“We just have to backtrack to that turn and go the other way! ... I think?”

“Will you please-”

“No I’m right! We go back, make a right at the corner and the door should be straight ahead! Or... would it be another left?” He knew his lover was trying to talk to him but he was so confused right now. He began turning when he felt a servo grab his then yelped as he was roughly pulled to the floor, landing heavily on his side. He opened her mouth to yell at the ninja but there, embedded in the wall where he had been standing moments ago, was a heavily charged net. He could still feel the heavy charge and scrambled away from it, backing up into his ninja. “P-P-Prowl??”

“Run.”

Wait, what? He heard a dark chuckle and rolling onto his knees felt his energon run cold at the sight of the Decepticon barely at the edge of their headlights. He was smirking, the rumbling of a small machine was heard and Bee let out a squeak of fear as he began walking towards them, his servo-turned-chainsaw revving heavily. “Prowl-”

“Just run. Get outside and comm Optimus for help,” he whispered lowly to him, pulling him onto his peds.

“I can’t leave you here with him!”

“You must. Now run.”

“But-”

“Run!!” With no warning the Cyber Ninja ignored his injuries and ran towards the mod-stealing mech. Jumping high into the air, narrowly being missed by the whirling saw he threw his shurikens. Naturally Lockdown managed to evade them but not the ped as it struck him right between his optics. With a curse the large mech went stumbling back, the chainsaw transforming back into a servo in order to grab at his faceplates. “Run, Bumblebee!!”

Flinching the minibot did so, taking off in a run he didn’t waste any time in transforming and took off down the halls. His headlights came him enough light to drive by. The sound of fighting was growing faintly but he pushed himself to go faster, turning down corner sharply, ignoring the dents when he ran into walls but cheered when he found the door and skidded to a halt, transforming. He remembered what Prowl said and was prepared to go outside and send an emergency comm link but stopped and peered into the darkness. “Prowl?”

Silence.

“... Prowl?” he called out louder, taking several hesitant steps from the door leading to freedom. Still silence and it was beginning to unnerve him. “Prowl!” he shouted this time and made his mistake of leaving the door, turning around a corner. He never realized the door silently hissed closed, locks falling into place.

Bee moved deeper into the ship, pausing when he noticed flecks of his paint where he had run into the walls in his panic to escape, using those to go by. “Prowl!!” he shouted but nothing answered him back. “This isn’t funny!!” he said trying not to flinch at the way his vocalizer filled with static. “P-Prowl!! Please answer me!!” he shouted even louder, taking a step back.

“I’m here, little Bee.” Glowing red optics caught the way the yellow frame tense, listening as servos transformed into stingers, bright blue optics whirling to meet his but he never gave him a chance to attack. Bringing his servo back he lashed out, striking the yellow Autobot across the faceplates with enough force that he went flying into a wall, hitting his helm hard enough to force his processor to go offline. Blue optics flickered momentarily before dimming and sliding close, the last thing on his processor was worry for his nature-loving ninja bot.

_‘Prowler...’_

* * *

 

Aware came slowly to the Autobot scout, a warning blinking across his display seemed to make his processor ache even more but he ignored it and tried to remember what he was doing before he went offline. He remembered being with Prowl, being frustrated that he still couldn’t open up for him, then following him when he left the factory in the middle of the night, followed him to the docks, ran into Lockdown-

Lockdown!

“Prowl!!” he shouted, rapidly sitting up—or rather, tried to sit up as his optics onlining in a flash but he winced when he realized two things: his processor was throbbing in pain, a slew of error messages filling his display, and he was currently bound to a table, servos above his helm and peds slightly apart. _‘Oh Primus, what happened to me?’_ he asked himself but the last thing he remembered was getting hit in the faceplates hard enough to go offline. He tried looking around but everything seemed too bright, making his optics hurt but that was strange. As he ran a quick self-diagnostic on his system but only his helm was aching but it wasn’t a typical ache he got from fighting. He couldn’t explain it but he was also aware of a strange charge coursing through his system. His plating felt too hot, his cooling fans were on high, and his sensor network was running on high. _‘W-What’s wrong with me?’_ He felt servos suddenly on him and tried to pull away. They weren’t hurting, no, they were having the opposite effect and he was resisting the urge to lean into the light touch. “N-No...”

“Bumblebee? It’s me,” came a familiar and worried tone.

Optics slowly onlined, wincing at the light but slowly looked at the shadow leaning over him and felt like crying. “P-Prowl!” he shouted and immediately tried throwing himself at him only to remember he was still strapped to the table but it didn’t stop him from smiling up at him, relief and love coming off him in waves. “Y-You’re alright!” Oh how he wished he could wrap his arms around him and cling to him tightly.

The Cyber Ninja smiles as he reached down, gently stroking the side of his faceplates as he leaned over him. “I’m fine, but I told you to run and contact the others,” he said softly, pulling back with a frown when he felt his temperature. “Why are you so hot?”

“I-I dunno... think Lo-Lockdown... did somethin’... to-to-to meee...!” Oh Primus he was getting even hotter! He whimpered as he felt those skilled digits move over his frame, brushing over transformation seams, checking him over. Everything felt so fragging sensitive, he tried to ignore it and looked around the room he was in but he couldn’t focus on it. He warily realized that this was the same table Prowl had been strapped to earlier and tried to tell him when the charge in his system spiked and he cried out, arching his backplates. Only then was he dimly aware of a scorching wetness slipping free from behind his panel.

_‘O-Oh Primus...! I-I’m...!’_

“Bumblebee? What’s wron-” the ninja looked down and saw the small puddle of lubricant growing under the scout’s aft, the way his frame twitched as he withered on the table, arching into his light touches and whimpering for more when he pulled back. “Bee, what-”

“I c-can’t stop!” the scout begged, whimpering in desperate need as servos curled into tight fists, straining against his restraints. The charge was rapidly building, gasping for air in a poor attempt to cool down his core but nothing was working and his cooling fans were beginning to overheat. “P-Prowler... he-help, me...” he begged his lover softly, arching his backstrut as another wave of intense pleasure surge through every part of his system.

“Bee...” He hesitated, optics watching him wither on the table, softly begging for his touch, he slowly reached out and stroked the heated chassis. The glass was already fogged from the heat and the minibot whimpered at his light touch. He listened as he begged him to touch him more, arching into him for more friction but he continued to move slowly. Both servos moved along his condensation soaked form, slipping beneath gaps in plating to stroke at tense wires and cables. “Relax Bee... I’ll help you,” he whispered and lowered his helm, mouth plates parting and letting his glossia slide out.

The yellow mech keened loudly as the glossia lapped up the condensation, throwing his helm back, wincing as he scrapped his horns on the berth but he didn’t care. “P-Prowler...” he whimpered lowly, closing his optics he lost himself in his lover’s touch. Slender servos continued caressing his plating, skilled digits plucking and stroking the wires beneath, a slick glossia tracing random patterns where he could reach. He heard his own cooling fans kicking on and moaned lowly as servos stroked his stabilizers, coaxing them open. “P-prrrowlerrr... Oh Prrimusss...” he purred lowly, hips bucking as servos clutched at his hips, crying out as an eager glossia licked away the drops of lubricant from his panel, hissing at the feel of his denta scraping along the sensitive metal. “Ahh!!”

The black and gold mech growled lowly as he continued lapping at the steaming lubricant, savoring the sweet oily taste. He sucked at the panel roughly, gripping his hips with one servo the other dug digits into the malleable protoform, drawing another whimpering cry from the scout. Sparks arched over his frame, a clear indicator of being overcharged, desperate for release. But, that’s where he wanted him. So full of pent up arousal he would have no choice but to beg him to overload. “Sweet little Bee...” he moaned lowly, lifting his helm he caught his staticy optics and roughly sucked at the heated cod piece, lavishing the bright metal with his glossia and smirking as the scout cried out, once more bucking his hips into him. “Why don’t you, open up for me?”

“P-P-Prrrowlerrr...” he whimpered, biting down on his lower lip plate hard enough to leak energon but he nodded. For some reason he was having trouble trying to get his panel to open, his processing trying to keep it locked in place but the charge was too much and it finally opened. He sighed in relief, a great gush of lubricant slipping free but he cried out and arched his frame as a hungry and eager mouth descended and began swallowing the fluids from the source. He gave up on words, his processor glitching on him but his frame ached and tried pushing into the cyber ninja, begging for more.

Mouth eagerly sucked at the now revealed valve, teasing the sensory nodes he felt, feeling them quiver under his touch. With so much lubricant spilling free it was getting difficult to swallow it all but he tried. His glossia traced the opening, feeling tense cables loosening just enough that he was able to push it inside and growled lowly at the tight, wet, delicious heat. He grinned despite his mouth being full as the minibot cried out in pleasure, frame bucking and arching into him, begging for more, but he paused when he kept calling him by the ninja’s name. Slowly he pulled back, gripping the hips hard enough to hurt he waited until his optics were on him before letting the holoimage fade.

“Why don’t you call me by my real designation, sweet little Bee,” Lockdown smirked, licking stray drops of lubricants from his lip plates.

Despite the intense charge and heat coming off him in waves, Bumblebee felt a cold knot of fear and humiliation. No, no this had to be a really bad defrag! This Decepticon wasn’t here! It was his ninja bot, his Prowl! But looking down at his chassis he saw fresh scratches and a blacked-out insignia that was faintly glowing. “Pr-Prowl’s holo-generator... where-where is he?” he demanded, trying to get his panel to close but cried out as a digit pushed into his valve with no warning, forcing the panel to remain open. “Ngh!!”

“He’s still online if that’s what you mean. But if you don’t let me finish what I started, I may change my mind and rip his spark out,” he grinned and began thrusting his digit in and out, roughly stroking the tense cables and seeking out hidden sensor nodes. Each time he found out he mercilessly stroked it, causing the minibot to arch into his touch, causing more lubricant to spill free. “Didn’t think you were so charged up... guess I was right, you just needed a real mech to show you a good time.” Pulling the digit out he was soon thrusting two inside, scissoring them and forcing the cables to loosen up.

He wasn’t suppose to be enjoying this; he didn’t want his digits inside his valve! He wanted his ninja bot, his Prowler! He tried to tell the bounty hunter to frag off but could only cringe and whimper in pain/desperation; the hidden nodes were being stroked and rubbed, cables loosening, and with the digits thrusting in and out he had no chance to close his panel. “S-Stop it-! I-ngh!-I don’t w-ahh!-want this!” Bee didn’t want it, he hated it! But the charge continued to pulse and throb through every part of his system, begging for a good, hard frag in order to overload. “Le-Leave me-oh Primus!-alone!” He winced as the digits pressed into a particularly sensitive nod, making him buck into his hand. He turned his helm away from the abnormally loud chuckle, trying to convince himself that he was not blushing despite the heat in his faceplates. He flinched when he felt the cold touch of his hook stroke his cheek ridge, forcing him to look at the white faceplates of his tormentor.

“Don’t be that way, little Bee. You can’t tell me you’re not enjoying this,” he smirked and used one of his digits to rub at an outer node, stroking it in time with his thrusting digits. “You’re so wet... but if you really want this charge to go away you need to experience a powerful overload. And the only way you’re gonna get that is with a good, hard, rough frag.” He punctured each word with a deep thrust of his digits, now scissoring three of them in and out, feeling the cables clenching around him, trying to keep them in. “What do you say?”

Was he serious? No way was he going to ‘face with a low-down Deceptiscum like him! If he was going to give his frame up it was going to be with the mech of his choosing! He turned his helm away once more, ignoring the pleasure coursing over his sensory network, denta biting through his lip plate even harder than before. The digits paused before slowly pulling out, making him whimpers softly but as soon as they were gone his frame was screaming for more. Once more the charge began building up, sparks arching over his armor plating; he swore he could smell some of his circuitry burning. Now the pleasure was beginning to turn painful, and he could only describe it as being shocked by something a great deal stronger than his stingers from the inside out. He tried to keep it together, tried telling himself that his ninja bot would save him, but a particularly powerful charge ripped through him he couldn’t hold back the painful scream, heavy static lacing it, his vocalization cords on the verge of shorting out.

Lockdown had never seen anything more erotic than this, the way the minibot’s frame arched, straining against his restraints, hips trying to buck into the air as even more sweet lubricant flowed freely. He could have easily just taken what he was offering the ninja drop-out and make him enjoy it, but if he really wanted to take everything away from him then he had to make the yellow mech want him, to call out his designation. Slowly moving around the table, watching him squirm he reached out and lightly traced his claw over his heated frame. He chuckled as the Autobot leaned into it, eager for more contact. “Hurts, doesn’t it,” he remarked with a smirk, lightly tapping the windshield on his chassis. “You can try to overload but it won’t work.” The hook moved down and scratched as the protective cod piece, drawing back when the hips tried bucking up. “I can make it go away... all you gotta do is ask nicely.”

“F-F-Fr-Frag o-of-off!!” the speedster stuttered, struggling once more to contain himself but it was getting to be too much. He wanted to cry, to beg him to stop, to scream Prowl’s designation but most of all he wanted to feel a spike pounding away at his valve, to frag him hard and fast, to make him experience a processor-blowing overload. Any resolve he had remaining was quickly falling away and he let out a quiet sob of regret. _‘P-Prowler... ’m sorry...’_

“... pl-plea-ssse...”

“Hmm? I didn’t hear that,” the taller mech smirked and moved closer, leaning down to hear him better. “You’re gonna have to speak up, little Bee.”

He felt a tiny sliver of anger at being called “little” before it was washed away by the intense pleasure/pain. “Pl-Please Lock-down... fr-fr-frag me-me...” He choked back a sob even as he tugged at his restraints, ignoring the pain and stress he was putting his joints through. “I ne-need it-t-t-t...”

“Need what? You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific,” he smirked as his servo roughly caressed his frame, digging digits into seams before roughly rubbing at his cod piece, palming the heated plating and purposely ignoring the leaking valve.

A slew of curses both Cybertronium and human filled his processor, eager to let it loose but he bit down on his glossia hard enough to break the malleable mesh, tasting his own energon. “I ne-need your sp-sp-spike-uhh!-‘ike in... in my valve—please!”

“Is that so? And how, do you want it?” he smirked, releasing his peds he climbed onto the table, kneeling between his spread stabilizers he continued the ghostly touches to his valve, this time with the smooth edge of his hook. Using his servo to keep himself up the Decepticon leaned over and vented heated air against the Autobot’s audio receiver, watching him squirm even more. “The longer you make me wait the more painful it’ll be... c’mon, sweet little Bee... tell me how you want it,” he breathed, licking a trail from the receiver to one of those small horns of his. The reaction was instantaneous.

“F-Frag me, Lockdown!! Primus, shove your spike in my valve and frag me!! H-Hard and fast and ro-rough, just—make me overload!!” he screamed aloud, his vocalizer breaking in small bursts of static. He felt so ashamed and was thankful his beloved ninja bot wasn’t here to witness him break down like this. He whimpered as a servo and hook grasped his hips, lifting them up, bracing himself but it happened so fast. Pale blue optics shot open, online instantly and his backstrut arched into a perfect bow as a ribbed spike speared him with no warning. There was a flash of pain as his seal was broken, cables tensing despite being penetrated by digits earlier but it hadn’t been enough. There was a moment of pause, he barely heard the bounty hunter growl something but he didn’t care as soft sobs racked his frame. _‘I-I’m so-sorry, Prow-ler... wan’ed you, be m’first...’_ he sobbed brokenly, flinching as the spike slowly withdrew then cried out against as it pushed back in with a wet sound. Oh Primus, it hurt! It hurt so slagging much! He didn’t want this, he didn’t want him!

Lockdown grunted as he continued to slow but penetrating pace, growling at the vice-like grip his cables had over his spike; it hurt when he moved but it was too good to stop. “S-Shoulda guessed-frag!-you were sealed!” he growled lowly, roughly pushing a stabilizer up to the minibot’s chassis which opened him up even more, letting him thrust in even deeper. He wasn’t too disappointed that the yellow cod piece was still closed but there was time to play with that later on. Leaning over the yellow, withering frame he rolled his hips as he continued to thrust in, his spike rubbing against a particularly large node he had missed earlier and knew it was what he needed as the mech tensed and cried out, this time in pleasure. “Like that?” he grunted, moving faster but still deeply, as though trying to imprint the ridges of his spike into his wet valve.

Bee tried to tell him no but all he could do was cry out in pleasure, pushing into the penetrating hips. Unfortunately everything was starting to feel so good, he was leaning into his invading touch, desperate to feel his frame pressing into his, tilting his faceplates to the hunter’s and moaned as he was kissed with just as much aggression. He whimpered as he drew his bitten glossia into his mouth, sucking at it and swallowing the drops of energon. He kept telling himself it was his Cyber Ninja doing this to him, that it was him making him feel so good, but a sudden spike of pain every now and then reminded him this wasn’t his nature-loving mech doing this to him; no, his touch was loving, gentle, sweet. This touch was rough, invading, and painful. Throwing his helm back he cried out as the ‘Con kept thrusting into the ultra-sensitive node inside, the charge reaching well beyond its peak. “L-Loc’own—please!” he cried out, heavy static warping his vocalizer.

“Please what?” he growled against his neck cables, biting them harshly, as though marking him to prove this sweet aft minibot now belonged to him. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll stop,” he warned and actually stilled his hips, chuckling at the Autobot cried out and tried to move but he effortless pinned him down to the table with his own mass. “Well?”

“Ne-Need to o’er-ngh!-o’verload! Plea’e!!” he begged, choking back sobs as he managed to wrap one of his stabilizers around his waist, fighting to lower the other but winced as digits painful squeezed tighter, feeling his sensitive protoflesh already bruising. “Plea’e... l-let me o’erload...” Oh Primus, why was he being tortured like this? What did he ever do to deserve this?

The mismatched mech chuckled, stealing another kiss from the soft lip plates, swallowing his soft whimpers, he lowered the bruised stabilizer to wrap around his waist and sat up, waiting until his coolant filled optics were on him and him alone. “You beg so nicely... I guess, I should reward you.” Pulling back until only the tip remained, he lifted the slender hips up and with a slag-eating grin, slammed into the swollen valve hard and fast. Bee couldn’t help it as he tense and screamed out as his sensor node was ruthlessly pounded into, his optics filled with glowing red warnings that he paid no mind to. He didn’t bother to hold back his cries, once more pulling at the restraints holding his servos down but they refused to give way. He never noticed the way the mech sat back, rolling his hips each time he thrust inside, grunting about how tight he felt and how he couldn’t wait to break him in some more. Lockdown looked up at the security camera and smirked, giving its lone audience quite the show. “Bet you wished you have taken him when you had the chance, right Prowler?” he taunted.

Locked in a prison cell, a metal plate covering his mouthplates, servos and peds welded to the back wall, Prowl watched helplessly as the bounty hunter raped his precious Bumblebee. He had been watching since it had started, hear everything being said, and he could feel his spark breaking at the cries of pain from his love. Once more he tried pulling himself free, not caring as gears grinded together and joints began overheating. He screamed into the metal plate, hoping against all odds that his love would hear him but it was no use. What he hated the most was that he was being turned on by the sight. His cooling fans were overworking themselves in an attempt to cool down his temperature core, his own spike aching behind his cod piece. It took all he had not to let it slide open and reveal his own heavily pressurized spike but he welcomed the pain, anything to keep him from witnessing the torture before him.

_‘Bumblebee... please, forgive me...’_ he prayed, sagging in his restraints he watched and knew when Bee reached his overload by the way his frame tensed then arched upward, his vocalizer breaking in a burst of high-pitched static that made him flinch from the frequency. He growled as Lockdown grunted and reached his own overload with a shout of triumph. He didn’t care how long it took, he was going to make that Decepticon pay for doing this to his sweet Bee.

His overload was so intense, he could feel his processor trying to force him into shutting down but overrode the command. Giving himself a breem or two he unwound the stabilizers from around his waist and pulled with an audible, wet pop. “Nice...” he remarked as he watched a combination of energon, lubricant, and transfluid spilled free of the overworked valve. He was tempted to have a taste of the combined fluids but pulled away, withdrawing a cloth from his subspace and wiping himself clean. He still had to remove the minibot’s stingers and incorporate them as his own, but maybe he’d let him keep them. For now.

“What’s yours is mine now, Prowler,” he smirked. Oh yes, they didn’t realize it, but they belonged to him now.

**Author’s Notes:** Okay first ever Lockdown and Bumblebee fic request done! And I never realized just how much of an aft he was (or that I made him to be). This was requested by my loyal reviewer SparkySparkfire here on FF and I really hope you enjoy it ^^ I’m also thinking of doing a kinda AU fic with bee as a bounty hunter but I have no idea about the plot!

Okay readers, hope you’ve been enjoying these one-shots so far and sorry for the delay but lemme give you a rundown of the remaining pairings other reviewers have requested so if you want a request a pairing and I don’t already have it down, please feel free to let me know!

Next up: _JetfirexJetstormxBumblebee_

_WaspinatorxBumblebee (techno organic)_

_SafeguardxBumblebee_

_RatchetxBumblebee_

_Longarm/ShockwavexBumblebee_

_AutobotsxBumblebee_ (okay, this one might be multi chapters due to the list of characters I have planned out ^^)

_Cyberwolf ProwlxCyberwolf Bumblebee_

On another note, I am sorry for the delay. My job has me working irregular hours but I have not stopped writing. Rest assure, I would really like to continue this as long as possible. I also might edit the rules later on so please be on the lookout. Be sure to leave me a reviewing telling me if you loved it! (Which I really hope you did!)


	6. JetfirexJetstormxBumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The jettwins, despite knowing nothing about their seeker heritage, had everything under control; especially when their heat cycle rolled around. Or they used to, until they met an adorable minibot scout.

**Disclaimer:** Transformers: Animated and everything related belongs to the rightful company Hasbro. I am in no way shape or form making money off this.

**Author’s Notes:** The jettwins, despite knowing nothing about their seeker heritage, had everything under control; especially when their heat cycle rolled around. Or they used to, until they met an adorable minibot scout.

Title: Heating for A Mate

Pairing: JetfirexJetstormxBumblebee

Requested: jisko2ijsko (AO3)

The moment the two came online they could feel an all-too familiar heat coursing through their systems. It warmed circuits, frames heating up, fluids rushing through cables. Their interface equipment was also stirring beneath their protective panels, begging for attention. There was a low moan as white and blue servos roamed over warm plating, rousing one another even further away from their recharge.

“Brother…” Jetstorm moaned and welcomed the very warm and very familiar mass of his twin as he immediately rolled atop of him. No words were needed, he could feel what his twin wanted as he spread his stabilizers apart, swallowed his moans as lip plates pressed against one another, glossia sliding along each other’s. His optic band dimmed as his panel slid back, servos gripping the other mech tightly.

“Brother eager,” Jetfire moaned, his own optics burning brightly, rubbing his pressurized spike against the wet valve, a teasing smirk on his lip plates. He was feeling pretty mischievous today as he nuzzled his twin’s neck cables, purposely rocking his hips in shallow motions, not quite penetrating like how he knew he wanted it.

Oh he was in one of those moods? Well, if he was going to be like that, then he would do the same. Servos gripped at yellow backplates, stabilizers wrapping around a slender waist, rocking his hips into the mech above him. They weren’t needed for at least a mega-cycle, there was no need to rush this as he eagerly swallowed the low moan from his twin, their fluids making everything slick-

_::JETTWINS!!!::_

All actions ceased as the two young seekers winced at the high pitch frequency. Perhaps they shouldn’t have waited so long. _::Yes, Sentinel Prime, sir?::_ Jetfire asked first but didn’t get up immediately.

_::Both of you get down, we got a new recruit and Ultra Magnus wants me to introduce the two of you to him.::_

The seeker Autobot really wished he could have ignored the comm link but now that he had answered there was no way he could deny he never heard him. _::But why is needing us-!::_ Whatever else he was going to ask was cut off, optics dimming as he felt the tip of his spike being guided into a willing valve. _~B-Brother, cannot be s-spiking,~_ he moaned to him over their private comm link but there was no denying how good it felt.

_~Need spike, want spike, want_ you _, brother,~_ he moaned, tightening his stabilizers around him, pulling him closer. Oh it felt good to feel the heated cable inside, gripping his heated frame even tighter but even in the throes of their heat he couldn’t ignored their commander’s intercom.

_::Beats me but I need the two of you to show this newbie how things work around here,::_ the Prime grumbled. Hopefully this new mech wouldn’t be a pain in the aft as the twins but not everyone could boast about having a pair of seekers under their command.

_::Okey for dokey.::_ He really shouldn’t be doing this but his frame was already moving, cooling fans whirling painfully fast in an attempt to cool his heated frame down. _::Down being in joor-::_

_::The new recruit will be here in less than a breem!! So get down here!!::_ he shouted.

_::But-::_

_::NOW!!!::_ he bellowed loudly, a sharp burst of static from the feedback making the dark blue Prime flinch. _::You too, Jetstorm!! Or else I’m coming to your quarters and-::_

_::W-We is going, Sentinel sir!::_ Jetstorm quick answered and only when they heard the gruff affirmative and the comm link cut off did the two sigh deeply, vents pushing out the heated air. It wouldn’t be that difficult to finish what they started, just a few kliks but thinking about their commanding officer storming into their quarters and catching them in the middle of interfacing—suddenly their heat rapidly died down. It was still there, but it could wait later. Jetstorm still let out a soft moan as he released his twin and he slowly pulled off. “I is not knowing there being recruit new.”

“I is not knowing, either. Or why is Ultra Magnus sir waning us meet him,” Jetfire pointed out as he handed his twin a damp cleaning cloth before taking another for himself. It took a bit of effort and it hurt, but he managed to push his spike back into his housing and let the protective plating slide close. “Maybe he can being friend?”

“Friend who not be mean and names calling,” the blue mech said with a nod. Having cleaned himself up he also let his protective panel slide close and stood from the berth. The linger desire to feel his brother inside him and then returning the favor was there but the longer they waited to meet this new soldier the more likelihood the Prime would find them. But even as they walked to the door before it opened he leaned over and kissed his twin. _~Still want you, brother.~_

_~Am wanting you more, brother.~_

* * *

 

“About time you cogs made it down here!!” Sentinel snapped at the twins as they finally made their way to the deck, standing at attention as they saluted him. “You’re just in time, Ultra Magnus just arrived with the new recruit.”

Ultra Magnus was bringing the recruit himself? That was unheard of, but now they were even more curious about the new mech. They immediately turned their attention to the door when they heard heavy ped steps, most likely those belonging to the Supreme Commander but they could make out lighter ped steps as well. Was that the new recruit? The door slid open and Sentinel’s backstrut immediately straightened.

“Attention!! Supreme Commander Ultra Magnus on board!!” he barked aloud, glaring at the twins who were quick to snap to attention as well.

“At ease, Sentinel,” the Magnus said, his deep vocalizer rumbling.

“Sir, yes, sir!”

Resisting the powerful urge to sigh he turned his attention to the twins and nodded. “Jetfire, Jetstorm, I’m sure the two of you are wondering why I had Sentinel Prime summon you both here.”

“Sir, yes Ultra Magnus, sir!” they said together. To the side Sentinel looked ready to wring their neck cables in his servos. “Sentinel sir is explaining we be meeting new recruit.”

“That is correct. Like the two of you, he is unique among the other Autobots and I feel he would learn a great deal from the two of you,” he explained and turned to the door, nodded to the figure standing in the shadow of the doorway. “Come in and introduce yourself.”

The figure hesitate before taking slightly hesitant steps from the shadows and made his way towards them. His plating was a bright yellow in color, covering his small frame, large soft blue optics set in innocent-looking faceplates, and two small horns on his helm. Stopping next to the Magnus his door wings gave a nervous twitch before they stilled and he nodded to the Elite Guards before him.

“Hey, I’m Bumblebee,” he spoke. He said nothing else but it was clear he was nervous as his “wings” twitched on his back plates. He was also smaller than the jettwins, coming to the bottom of their chins. He barely gave Sentinel a glance, instead he was studying the twins intently before speaking up once more. “These the two you were talking about?”

“That is correct. Jetstorm and Jetfire are seekers, but unlike you they don’t have wings,” Ultra Magnus explained before nodding to the two seekers. “Bumblebee has recently coming into his own seeker coding and needs your guidance, so I am trusting the two of you to teach him everything you know.”

“Sir, yes, sir!!” Another seeker? Like them? How lucky were they! And he was nice to look at as well!

“Sentinel.”

“Sir!”

“Until I say otherwise Bumblebee will be under your command. Also, do not mention anything about him having seeker coding to anybot else. If he wishes to disclose that information so be it, and I do not need to mention that this is still considered a top secret project, do I.”

“Yes, sir! I-I mean no, sir! I mean—sir!” Well, at least the defense cannons got the upgrades they were sorely lacking, and he couldn’t boast but now he had three flying Autobots under his command! Score another one for him!

The Magnus gave the Prime another look before turning to the minibot and reached out, his large servo patting the minibot on the helm. “I’ll be leaving now, Bumblebee. But comm me if you need anything.”

“Yeah I get it,” he muttered and knocked the servo off with a small smirk on his lip plates. “Thanks though, can you tell every bot that I’m alright?” he asked.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be back in one orn for a status report.”

“Sir!” Nodding, the Magnus quietly left, the door closing behind him. Sentinel was seething, how dare this-this minibot treat the Magnus like that! He was ready to tear into him when the twins nearly pounced on him, asking him questions and touching him. Already he had lost control of his own subordinates but at least they had the decency to wait until the Magnus left! “Hey-”

“I is Jetfire, most handsomest bot! That being Jetstorm, most ugliest bot!”

“I is not! You is more uglier!”

“Um, hi-?”

“You is having wings? You is flying like us?”

“We is flying all time! We is making sure we not blowing the up!”

“Blowing up?” That didn’t sound good but before Bumblebee could ask what they meant by that he flinched and immediately jerked away from the curious servos, door wings twitching angrily. “Watch it! They’re like really sensitive!” he snapped. Geez, why did they have to touch them? It felt really weird and he was still getting used to them himself. The twins froze and looked a bit embarrassed at their over eagerness, but being the only seekers around they never had an opportunity and his wings looked so pretty. Before they could apologize Sentinel finally chinned—butted his way into the conversation.

“Alright soldier, you’re under my command now and you’ll be showing me respect like a Prime deserves!” he snapped, getting in the minibot’s faceplates. “I don’t know what you think acting the way you did with Ultra Magnus, but that isn’t gonna fly by me!”

“Cool your engines, you’re not the first Prime I worked with,” he snarky replied. “Only reason I’m here is ‘cuz no one on my team could help me out.”

“Oh really? And who would that be?”

“None ya business,” he muttered. In fact he was already missing his team. They tried, but he was already not liking it here. He woulda been happy if he had stayed as a grounder like he thought he was but soon as his seeker coding activated there was no way of hiding it. He could see the big-chinned aft was ready to start yelling and decided to cut him off before he could start. “Look, I already know how to fly. That’s the easy part!”

“You is already flying?” Jetstorm asked as he and his brother approached him but were mindful to keep their servos to themselves. “We is flying too!”

“Yes! We is flying now, yes??” Jetfire asked eagerly

“Now what a klik-”

“Yeah! I was the fastest thing on wheels, sure I’m faster than you two on wings,” he smirked and stepping back, transformed into a small but sleek vehicle the same color scheme as his armor. Noticing the shocked looks on their faceplates his engine gave a rev. “What?”

“We is, not seeing your wings,” Jetstorm said a bit sadly. He really liked his wings, so how was he going to fly now?

“Oh that! Yeah, I only take them out when I’m ready to fly. What, you mechs scared of a minibot being a better flyer?” he teased, engine revving beneath his hood. “Bet I can fly circles around you two.” The twins blinked and with matching smirks of their own, chased after the new recruit from their headquarters even as Sentinel yelled at them to come back.

“We is showing you who be better flying!” they shouted after him, transforming and taking to the air once they were outside.

“I even be flying hexagons, octagons, dodecahedrons even both you!”

“Oh it is so on!” Now with the open training grounds ahead of them, Bumblebee sped to his spark’s content. He loved the feel of the wind rushing past him and gave the command to transform, allowing his doors to flip open. He shivered at the feel of the winds brushing over his “wings”, his sensor network heating up rapidly. Spotting a small ramp he increase his speed to the maximum and took it. Once he was airborne his rear wheels shifted so the hub caps were facing the ground. “Woohoo!! This is the only way to get around!!”

The jettwins were not only surprised to see him flying, but they could feel their circuitry heating up. The yellow mech really did look like he was built for flying and even though he was originally a vehicle he showed that he knew how to fly. Soon the three of them were racing one another (Bumblebee proved he was pretty fast when he revealed his hidden thrusters) but the twins found themselves showing off their acrobatic skills, as though they were trying to impress him. They were more than happy to help them, but they flinched when Sentinel commed them.

_::GET YOUR AFTS BACK HERE OR YOU’LL BE CLEANING THE WASH RACKS FOR THE NEXT VORN!!!!::_

_::S-Sir, yes, sir!::_ So much for that but they took a moment to watch Bumblebee fly past them, clearly having not heard the very loud command. _::Bumblebee, Sentinel sir wants us coming down.::_

_::Or he be us cleaning wash racks for vorn.::_ They hated cleaning out the wash racks!

_::Huh? Already? But I’m not done!::_ it felt like it had been too long since he was enjoying himself, he didn’t want to come down! But his levels were running a bit low. But as the two flew low enough to transform and land he kept flying in circles above them. Flying was easy, he was able to pick that up pretty quick. It was just…

_::Bumblebee? Why is you not landing?::_ Jetstorm commed him.

_::I-I’m looking for a clear spot to land!::_ There, that should buy him some time.

_::Oh! There is clear spot you land in!::_ Jetfire was happy to point out.

_::Oh.::_ Slag! Slag slag fragging slag! Now what? _‘I-I can do this, I mean it’s easy, right?’_ He began to fly lower, circling once more but as he headed for the clearing he realized he was coming in too fast and the ground was rapidly approaching his front end. He panicked and tried turning his wheel to the side only to remember he was flying, not driving. _‘I can’t do this!! I can’t do this!!’_

“Bumblebee!!” The twins could tell something was wrong the way he was coming in too fast and watched as he went skidding into the ground front end first. They were already running to help him and watched as he transformed during mid-skid before finally coming to a stop in a pile of debris. Reaching him they reached out but pulled back, as though afraid to touch him. They had already sent an alert to the prime that something had happened.

“… I… I’m, fine,” the minibot moaned lowly, resetting his optics as they flickered before bringing his servos beneath him to push himself up. His sensors were all over the place and his gyro-stabilizer was having difficulty trying to correct itself. He learned this the hard way when he tried sitting up only to pitch to the side.

Jetstorm didn’t hesitate to grab the mech before he fell over and he frowned behind his optic band as he took in the deep dents he sustained. “You being okay?” he asked in concern.

“I’m fine,” Bumblebee repeated and pushed away from the blue mech. Okay, so far so good he pushed himself to his peds, ignoring their concerns for him to just sit and wait for Sentinel to come to their location but once he was on his peds he began falling forward. “Slagging Pitt!” he cursed, servos failing at his sides to try and regain some balance but he was going to be kissing the ground in an astrosecond!

“I has you!” Jetfire said and sure enough, he managed to catch the mech before he could fall completely. There was no denying that the yellow mech felt good pressed against his chassis like this but concern was evident on his faceplates as well as his brother’s. “You is saying you is flying good.”

“I can fly! I… I can’t…” Primus, this was so fragging embarrassing! “I just—I can’t land.”

* * *

Once Bumblebee was given the clear from the medics the jettwins were more than happy to help teach the minibot how to land. Unfortunately, their help was not wanted as the new seeker was determined to learn on his own. That resulted in more crash landing and more trips to the medic and more reprimanding from Sentinel Prime. It wasn’t until Ultra Magnus commed the scout did he grudgingly accept the jettwins’ help.

Jetstorm and Jetfire were not only enjoying the times they all flew together, they also enjoyed the time spend with the new recruit, they didn’t feel the almost desperate urge to frag one another when he was around. The new recruit even allowed them to call him Bee and in return showed them what he enjoyed doing when they weren’t training, which mostly consisted of pulling pranks on the Prime and feign ignorance when said prime tried to blame it on him.

“How am I suppose to know what happened to your spray?” Bee demanded with a frown.

“Don’t lie to me, soldier! Who else would swap it out with axel grease?!” Sentinel snapped. It had been embarrassing during training his battel lance kept slipping out of his grip. He would have lost his skyboom shield if it wasn’t mounted to his forearm.

“Again, why are you blaming me? Do I look like I have any grease on me?” To prove it he even held out his servos for him to inspect them. “See? And besides, I was with the twins most of the solar cycle flying!”

That was true, according to the training log the trio had been practicing aerial maneuvers so surely it couldn’t have been him. There wouldn’t have been enough time. Growling angrily he stormed off, or rather tried to as his peds suddenly went sliding out from under him. He immediately turned a furious glare at the snickering yellow mech.

“What?” he wasn’t the only one laughing as he tried walking off only to continue slipping and sliding.

Jazz, who was also commed to help with servo-to-servo combat, was barely managing to smother his own snickers and turned to the minibot. “So you really had no idea Sentinel literally bathes in his decontamination solvent?” he asked.

“Not a clue. Besides, I think it’s take more than simple axel grease to get him slipping around like that,” he smirked, having safely and secretly disposed of the cans of extra smooth lubricant he had switched with the Prime’s precious spray. Jazz just looked at him before he couldn’t take it anymore and broke down in fits of laughter as well as the twins.

The more time the twins spent with Bee, the more they enjoyed it and looked forward to it. But the more they realized they didn’t like it when other bots tried to cut into their time. One such mech was the new communication officer Longarm who would go out of his way to touch him in not-so-subtle ways. Other mechs included Ironhide and Wasp who would tease him and try to show him up during training sessions. They were also ones who didn’t hold back when it came to name calling but Bee was quick to jump to the twins’ defense.

“You’re one to talk! You may have thick plating but I bet even with wings you’d never get off the ground!” Bee snapped at Ironhide.

“Hey, watch it, sparkling!” he growled.

“I’m not a sparkling! And even so, I’d rather be a minibot than some large aft like you!”

“Would take a freak to be friends with those two,” Wasp rudely commented.

“Look in a mirror lately?” Turning away from them to leave Bee flinched when he felt a strange servo roughly touch one of his door wings and whirled at the green mech. “Stop touching them!!”

“Who’s gonna stop me? You?” Smirking the two cornered him in the wash racks and the larger red mech held him from behind, to keep him from running off. The smaller green mech was already moving forward and was roughly touching the twitching wings, purposely digging his digits into the plating and exposed gaps. Neither of them noticed the entrance of two mechs until they felt a sweltering heat filling the air, causing their cooling fans to kick on in an attempt to cool themselves down.

“What is happening?” Jetfire demanded, yellow optics burning angrily. As soon as he saw what was going on his frame began to heat up and as such the air was rapidly becoming heated. Next to him Jetstorm’s wind turbines were keeping the air cooled so the two didn’t overheat themselves but they were not happy.

“Frag off!” Wasp snapped but warnings were rapidly filling his HUD he ended up stumbling to the far wall of the wash rakes. The sensors immediately came online but instead of the refreshing cold water it was scalding hot, making him yelp and jump away from the shower head.

Ironhide refused to let these freaks show him up but as his plating activated he had to quickly retract it. It made a great defense but it was also absorbing and containing the damaging heat. He released the winged Autobot and moved to the far wall as well.

Bumblebee didn’t question it as he ran to the twins and out of the wash racks. The lock room was cool and it gave his fans a chance to cool down his system but he winced as his door wings slowly moved up and down in an attempt to help him cool off. _‘Fragging glitches,’_ he muttered and gently trailed his servo over one of his wings. He couldn’t reach where the slagger Wasp had touched him but he certainly did not like the way he touched them.

“Bumblebee?” He turned and saw the concerned look on Jetstorm and Jetfire.

“H-Hey, what’s up?”

They wanted to ask if he was alright but unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time they came to the minibot’s rescue, and each time they asked if he was alright he would snap at them to leave him alone. “Sentinel Prime sir, wants us patrolling over cityscape,” Jetfire quickly said.

“It being far from other Autobots, and we is telling him you no more crashing,” Jetstorm said hopefully.

“Patrolling? Away from here?” It wasn’t a mission but it sure beat hanging around here just training and his pranks were getting kinda old as well. He grinned and immediately turned to face them fully, wings nearly vibrating in excitement. “That’s awesome!! Please tell me we can leave right now??”

“Yes. But first we is needing go and get energon.” But the yellow minibot was just grateful for something new to do. Running towards them he nearly tackled Jetfire to the floor, arms around his neck and stabilizers around his waist.

“Let’s go already!! Before the gears start turning and he says no!!” Grinning at the surprised and flushed faceplates of the seeker he latched onto the other for a brief klik before running off. “I’ll meetcha outside!!”

The jettwins watched him go but there was no denying that both their faceplates were heavily flushed, and their plating warmed to the touch. They didn’t say anything but they knew what the other was thinking. They had secretly wanted the minibot all to themselves but were unsure how to approach him about it. It didn’t help that other mechs wanted him as well but he turned down all their advances.

~Brother, what if, he is saying no?~ Jetfire asked as they began walking to the storage area where they could get energon reserves.

~Is not knowing if not asking, brother,~ Jetstorm reasoned but he could feel the nervousness from him and it was matching his own. What if he said no? What if he thought they were freaks? The two vented air through their system before continuing to the storage to get their rations. A few breems later and with the dark blue Prime’s authorization the three were soon flying to an outpost far from their beloved cityscape. The mission was very simple, to patrol the area and report any anomalies they happen upon.

“Think we’ll see any Decepticons?” Bumblebee asked the two seekers at they flew on either side of him.

“There be no more decep to cons on planet.” Jetstorm said with a bit of confusion. “Sentinel sir is saying no more.”

“And you believed him?”

“What is not believing? No more enemy mechs here,” Jetfire reasoned.

“Uh huh.” The rest of the flight was quite but before long they arrived. The trip decided to split up and look around, not knowing that the real reason Sentinel Prime had sent them off was not only for them to patrol the area, but to get them out of his circuits for a few joors. The twins were bad enough, but dealing with a sarcastic minibot who refused to show him any ounce of respect was getting on his last command module. After a mega cycle or two there was no sign of anything wrong and the twins commed each other for a meet up. It was too early to head back so they decided to get some more flying in. it was fun and they enjoyed it so they commed Bumblebee to come join them.

_::I’m gonna practice landing,::_ he responded quickly.

_::You wanting us to help?::_

_:No!! I mean, nah I’m good. I think I’m finally getting used to it.::_ And with that he cut his end of the link with them.

The jettwins were confused and decided to leave him alone but after a few breems they decided to go find the third seeker and make sure he was alright. The problem was, they were having a hard time trying to find him. The longer they were looking the more worried they were becoming.

_::Bumblebee? You is there?::_

Silence.

_::Bumblebee?::_

Still silence.

_::Bee?::_

Nothing.

_~Why is he no answer us?~_

_~Am not knowing. Maybe he be hurt?~_

_~We comm Jazz sir? Or Sentinel sir?~_

_~No. First, we find cute friend. If hurt, then we comm help.~_

_~Okey for dokey!~_ The two were off, flying to the last location their comm picked up. As much as they wanted to shout the minibot’s designation but if he was hurt he could be offline and wouldn’t hear them. They flew low, repeatedly running scans but nearly halted in mid-flight when they heard a very soft sound. Was that sound from Bumblebee? Had he been hurt? As one the two flew in low and transformed, scanning the area. The area was barren, the broken and almost rusted remains of a former cityscape all around them, but no sign of the minibot.

“N-Ngh!”

_~Brother! You is hearing??~_

_~Yes! Maybe is being friend Bee.~_ Moving as quietly as they could they moved to the remains of a broken down structure, resisting the strong urge to call out for the minibot but the sounds were getting louder and it was making their circuits start to warm up. There was also something in the air that was tickling their olfactory sensors. Peering around a corner they were meet with a very enticing sight.

The yellow mech was in the shadows of the fallen structure, hidden in the back as far as he could but it did nothing to stop the moans he was letting out or the fact that the two mechs were able to see in the dim lighting. His backplates was towards them but they watched as his cute door wings twitched and flapped slightly, a light sheen of condensation on his frame, making his plating especially shiny. They couldn’t tell what he was doing but his stabilizers were pressed tightly together and he was trembling.

“Aaah… P-Primus…” he moaned lowly, bracing his forearm on the wall he rested his helm on it and let his optics offline, arching his backstrut and sticking his aft out just so. “N… s’not enough…”

_~What not enough?~_

_~Not knowing.~_ But the sweet smell was stronger than before and they could feel their own interface equipment beginning to stir. His aft looked so cute, they could see why Longarm’s servo always tried touching it but they wanted to be the ones touching it, not him! Their optics widen they saw those slender stabilizers spreading open and yellow-tipped digits rubbing between them; the scent was growing stronger and it finally hit the two what was happening here.

The minibot seeker had just entered his heat cycle and he was trying to relieve it himself. Unfortunately, the twins’ cooling fans kicked on and were whirling so loudly, it didn’t take the yellow mech to realize he had an audience and when he turned to face them he was frozen with embarrassment.

“W-Wha… When…” he blinked and realized with dismay his servo was still rubbing at his interface panel. With a rather weak cry he tried to get away only to trip over his own peds and fall right on his aft, banging the back of his helm on the wall behind him. Hissing in slight pain his servos came up to grab his helm so the twins were able to see that his panel and inside of his stabilizers were slick with more than just condensation. It was the silvery pink color of lubricant.

The twins quickly rushed over, concerned over his welfare but once they were close enough he snapped at them not to touch him. They were hurt but looking at him they could tell he was not only upset he was also very embarrassed. “Bee, are you okay?”

“Does it look like I’m okay?!” he snapped angrily and realizing his panel was dripping he quickly covered the mess with his servos, wings tense and arched high on his backstruts. “L-leave me alone!”

“But, we is wanting to help-”

“No you don’t! You wanna make fun of me and call me names! You don’t know what I’m going through!” He thought they were his friends, but he couldn’t help it. The moment he felt the heat spreading through every piece of his system he tried to ignore it but it was refusing to go away. And no matter how much he touched himself it wasn’t enough. “No bot knows what I’m going through…”

“… we is knowing the feeling,” Jetfire said quietly an in a rather daring and risky move, moved closer and reached out to gentle stroke a tense wing. It twitched under his touch, the minibot flinching but he continued stroking the edge lightly until the wing began arching into his touch. “Is happening to us, we is finding out is called heat cycle.”

“Heat cycle? Sounds about right,” Bee muttered but refused to look at either of them. Even as they moved closer, kneeling at either of his sides he was enjoying the way the yellow-orange Elite Guard was stroking his door wing. Soon he could feel the blue Elite doing the same and couldn’t help but found himself purring softly, wings arching into their touch.

“Yes, is thing only seekers have, know not why but he knowing how hot it hurts,” Jetstorm said. Their own heat was growing stronger but he was imaging himself ‘facing with the adorable mech, to hear him calling out his designation, begging for more. Hearing a sharp intake he glanced at his brother who was looking at him with heated optics. He wanted the same thing. “Friend Bee… we, can help.”

“H-How? It won’t s-stop,” he whimpered softly, digits curling into fists, resisting the urge to touch himself. A servo reached out under his chin, tilting his faceplates up, he onlined his optics just in time to feel lip plates press against his own. It was a pleasant surprise and for a brief klik, he forgot about his embarrassment but even as he slowly kissed him back he was still tense and nervous. His logic circuits were silent, maybe he accidentally fried them, but a part of his processor was remarking that he was a pretty good kisser which led to wanting to ask him where he learned to kiss, but that would mean he would have to pull away. He didn’t want to stop.

Jetfire didn’t think he could get any hotter but it was obvious the minibot was enjoying this. He was so close to reaching down and touching himself but he held back. But it didn’t stop him from touching and stroking the twitching wings, digits tracing transformation seams, he pressed his servos more firmly into them and smiled as the minibot let out a low moan. _~Brother, he is liking this, yes?~_

_~Much liking, yes,~_ he moaned back, maneuvering Bumblebee so he was kneeling before him, still kissing him but allowed his twin to kneel behind him. Pressing his cool frame against his chassis he swallowed the soft cry and darted his glossia inside to taste his oral fluids. _~He is very much liking! I is liking his taste!~_

_~I is wanting taste!~_ Pulling Bumblebee back, pressing his backplates into his heated chassis, he gently tilted his helm back and caught his lip plates in a heated and eager kiss. He swallowed the soft gasp and both moans as his glossia darted inside to taste. _~Mmm, I is liking his taste, too,~_ he moaned lowly, rubbing his servos over the slick chassis, making the Autobot moan softly, arching against him.

Bumblebee couldn’t believe this was happening, he had been kissed before, a quick, passing in the dark, but this was so good! The hot frame behind him felt so good, servos tracing his plating, slipping into gaps to stroke at wires. This was so much better than the green glitch’s touches, and he didn’t mind being held by them. He wasn’t sure what he should be doing with his own servos but they reached out to stroke the arms holding his close, gripping them when heated digits pressed into particularly sensitive spots, making him arch and whimper in want. He flushed as he felt more lubricant building behind his panel and his stabilizers shifted wider.

The blue-colored mech was feeling so hot, his cooling system was struggling to keep him from overheating. He reached out and continued touching him, rubbing as his shiny plating, stroking tense cables and wires, Unable to contain himself he leaned forward and began to suck at the cables in his neck, pressing so close to him he was trapped between their frames. Feeling his engine purring their own engines revved in response, making the minibot mew sharply, breaking the kiss and reaching out to grab at them. “Liking?” he panted into his audio, digits skimming over plating, brushing against his twin’s frame and feeling his own do the same.

“Y-Yesssss…” he hissed lowly, arching into their expert touch, encouraging digits to press in deeper, to rub at his hot spots harder, he cried out loudly when they located another sensitive spot he forgot he had, namely his small sensory horns, and sucked at them, running their slick glossia over the thin metal. He clung to them tightly, roughly sliding his yellow and black servos over the two of them, stroking their own hot spots. He felt a servo pulling his stabilizer back and to the side, opening himself up he never realized his protective panel had slid open or that his cod piece had retracted. When he felt questioning digits tracing over his heavily lubricant valve and his fully pressurized spike was bouncing along the lower plates of his stomach. “W-W-Wait! Stop!” he cried out, pushing against Jetstorm and trying to pull away from Jetfire but the twins refused to let him go but they did stop.

“Something wrong?” the blue seeker asked but had already removed his digits, looking at him in concern.

“You is not liking this?” the orange seeker asked, stroking the stabilizer he continued to hold up, trying to coax the cables and wires to relax once more.

“I, I am, seriously!” he quickly said, looking up at them but then his optics turned downward, whimpering as he watched and felt a heavy drop of transfluid ooze from the tip and slid down; he was so overcharged, his pleasure sensors were starting to hurt, melding with his pain sensors. “I… I’ve, never… mermmd…” he mumbled the remained of his words, clutching at the servo resting on his chassis.

Yellow optics blinked and lip plates brushed against his receiver, making him moan softly. “Is not hearing, friend Bee say what?”

“Said… ne’er mermmd ‘fore,” he mumbled once more, wishing he could hide but blinked as gentle blue-gray digits slipped beneath his chin, tilting his faceplates to look into concerned and caring optics.

“Please, be saying again?”

“… said, never o’erloaded before.” Primus, now they really were going to laugh at him. The ground may as well just open up beneath him and swallow him whole, to save him the embarrassment as servos tightened around him, frames pressing in close, lips softly taking turns in kissing his own—wait, what?

“We can help overload, is very good feeling,” Jetfire smiled and using his other servo curled it under the other stabilizer and lifting it up. Despite being a seeker the minibot was a bit heavier than he realized but not so much that he couldn’t lift him onto his lap, spreading his own bent stabilizers beneath him and having his rounded aft pressing into his cod piece. He grinned at the small squeak Bee let out and nuzzled the soft horn. “No worrying, friend Bee… brother is making sure you is feeling good,” he murmured.

“Is very good,” Jetstorm murmured with a matching grin, having pulled back just enough so he could see the combined fluids flowing freely. Leaning forward he traced a digit over the tip of the spike, lightly probing the opening he traced the thick drop of transfluid down to the valve where he gently traced the outer rim. He moved slowly and carefully, watching the way the yellow mech arched and bucked into his touch, mewing softly. ~Brother… wanting to frag friend Bee…~ he moaned to his twin as he continued to trail his digits over the bared equipment, lowering his faceplates down to watch as more drops of transfluid dribbled free, tasting the sweet scent of his fluids on the back of his glossia. Would they taste as sweet as they smelled, he wondered.

_~Me too, but… I is wanting more,~_ he moaned as he sucked at the small horn, digits gripping the stabilizers harder, trying not to bruise but the way he was squirming, hips bucking forward, he didn’t want to let him go. “Telling us what sweet Bee wanting,” he panted heatedly, now lightly nipping and licking the neck cables, resisting the urge to burst into flames least he hurt the sweet bot.

What did he want? He wanted the both of them, that’s what he wanted! A shaking servo reached up and gripped the back of the helm of the mech holding him, pulling him closer, enjoying the slight sting of his denta biting into the thick cable that provided energon to his processor. His other servo slid down his frame, roughly stroking bared protoflesh and covered the light blue servo resting along his hip, squeezing it tightly. “Please…” he whispered lowly, optics a rich dark blue color, hips bucking at eh delicate caress. “Make me overload…” Jetstorm froze, his own frame so hot it was hurting but nodding he leaned down and took the tip of the tempting spike into his mouth. Bee arched his backstrut, stabilizers tensing and he cried out at eh incredible wet heat.

_~How he tasting, brother?~_ Jetfire panted, releasing one of the leg stabilizers to wrap his own servo around the bot’s chassis, digits tracing the red insignia then slipping beneath the plating to roughly stroke the heaving protoflesh.

_~So good, I is liking much very!~_ he purred and swirled his glossia round the tip, eagerly tasting and swallowing the transfluid. He could tell his brother wanted a taste so he projected to him what it tasted like; it wasn’t the same but hearing him moan showed he enjoyed it. One of his blue tinted servos pushed the slender stabilizer that had been released up, rubbing a digit behind the knee joint, making the sweet bot whimper softly but his other servo went back to stroking and rubbing at his valve. It was so wet, his entire servo was nearly coated in the oily lubricant, he slowly, carefully, pushed a digit in at the same time he took the leaking spike deeper into his mouth.

“O-Oh slag!!” he cursed, clutching at the mechs tighter he could feel his small frame trembling. If he had known it would feel this good, maybe he would’ve given up his seals a long time ago! But something told him if he had given it to somebot else, it wouldn’t have been the same. Arching his backstrut and throwing his helm back his lip plates were caught in a heated kiss and eagerly kissed the fiery mech back, glossias twisting together, his soft whimpers were swallowed as a second digit pushed its way inside, gently stretching his valve open.

Jetstorm moaned lowly, the vibrations making the spike quiver in his mouth, he carefully moved his digits in and out, spreading them as he pulled out, seeking out hidden nodes to stroke and caress. Each time he found one Bumblebee let out a soft whimper and he rubbed and stroked at it. His own spike was begging to be touched and caressed, to be buried in the tight, wet valve. It didn’t help that he could feel the same strong desire coming from his twin and when he felt his digits slid down, pushing his own digits in beside his own, he felt like growling. In the back of his processor he didn’t want to share the minibot with anyone, he wanted him all to himself, but the thought didn’t last long. This was his twin, the other half of his spark, how could he not want to share this sweet little mech with him? Taking a great deal of transfluid into his oral cavity he pulled off and leaned up. Knowing what he had planned Jetfire pulled away from the mewing minibot and caught his brother’s mouth with his own, moaning in pleasure as he finally tasted what he had been missing.

_~Tastes good very,~_ he moaned as his digits pushed in deeper, making the minibot cry out louder, hips eagerly pushing down on their joined servos. _~Nice of you to be sharing.~_

_~I always be sharing with you,~_ he moaned lowly, pressing in closer. Now they each had four of their digits pushing into the overstimulated valve, making the third between them cry out louder, listening to him begging for more, sounding almost in pain. Breaking the kiss they looked down and watched as he had managed to wrap his own servo around his glistening spike and was stroking it rapidly, hips trying to push down on their servos harder but they continued their firm hold on his stabilizers.

“P-Pleas-se… wan-wanna o’verload-d-d,” he stuttered softly, cheek ridges heavily flushed, valve clutching at eh invading digits, feeling a strange pressure building, but as he tried to reach it he could feel the pleasure mounting. Squirming in their grip he cried out as the digits began to move faster, roughly stroking swollen nodes, causing his frame to heat up so much he could hear his cooling fans and vents struggling to keep up. “Oh Pr-Primus!!”

“No Primus here,” Jetstorm whispered heatedly against his audio, licking it thickly and moving up to mouth at the cute curved horn. So much lubricant was dripping from the overworked valve, he longed to lean down and taste it, so see if it was sweeter than his transfluid.

“Overload for us, want to see faceplates when happen,” Jetfire moaned lowly, licking the other horn, sending the command to heat up his digits as he rubbed at a particularly deep node. The stabilizer in his grip tensed and tried kicking out but he continued to hold it firmly. “Sweet friend Bee…”

Oh Primus, it was too good! Too warm, too hot! Yes, yes he wanted it all, he wanted to feel their digits pushing in deeper, wanted to thrust his spike into their oral cavities, wanted to see what they tasted like, he wanted them! The pressure was so much, he couldn’t take it anymore and with a static-breaking cry finally came, lubricant flowing heavily from his valve, coating the thrusting digits and servos they were attached to but also from his spike, his servo clutching and stroking the malleable protoflesh in an attempt to squeeze every drop of thick transfluid out. He trembled almost violently in their embrace, trying to call out their designations but there was a quick, fleeting error message that darted across his HUD before he crashed.

The twins were, well, they came close to panicking when they felt the smaller frame pressed between them go limp and he didn’t respond to their worried comms, but when they realized he had merely slipped in recharge they relaxed. Slowly they removed their digits from the wet valve and carefully laid him on his backplates, making certain his door wings weren’t in an uncomfortable position. Looking down at him he looked so peaceful as his cooling system continued to bring his core temperature down.

Jetfire reached down and gently trailed his digits down the side of the yellow helm, “Brother… I is wanting more,” he said softly as he leaned down and kissed the sleeping bot’s lips.

“I is wanting more also,” Jetstorm murmured and leaned down to kiss the bot as well then lean up and kissed his brother. “Maybe… he is wanting be, more than friends?”

“More than friends? Like… spark mates?” Would he want to be more than friends? Maybe, be a part of what they had with each other? The idea was promising, but it was also very arousing. Looking at his twin the yellow and orange mech didn’t hesitate in the slightest as he pounced on him, sending him falling flat on his back plates. He wasted no time in retracting his panel and grinded his wet valve against the dark blue cod plating.

“J-Jetfire-!” He had though his brother wanted to be spiking him, not be spiked, but his own panel pulled back and as soon as his spike was free he felt his twin’s slick heat bearing down on him. ~Aah! Brother is hot!~ he moaned over their bond, digits digging into pelvic armor to help him move.

~Spike good, need more!~ the twin moaned as she rocked his hips, hydraulic pistons hissing as his frame up and down. Lowering himself down their lips met in a heated kiss, servos greedily roaming their frames and trying to get beneath plating to stroke sensitive wires. From an outside perspective, it would have looked like the two were wrestling but this was much more intimate. So busy trying to get one another off, they failed to realize their new favorite Autobot was waking up.

_‘Oh Primus… why does my processor hurt?’_ It felt like he just got a massive information download but it had been waaay too much to handle. Slowly pushing himself up in a somewhat sitting position, leaning back on his servos he realized several things: his protective plating over his interface equipment was open, completely bared for anybot to see, covered in a combination of transfluid and lubricant, and his two seeker friends were going at it like a pair of petrorabbits before him. He shouldn’t be looking, it wasn’t right, but it was so fragging hot! His logic circuits tried to tell him that this was wrong, that they were twins and shouldn’t be doing this but he immediately shut it down; his processor decided to play back just what caused him to crash to begin with and he tried to suppress the whimper of want. He watched the way the pale blue spike pushed up into a wet valve, the way they cried out, servos greedily roaming over heated frames, he wanted some of that! Leaning back on one servo he reached down and pushed his digits into his tingling valve, trying to remember the way their eager digits felt as they brought him to overload.

The twins were lost in their own little world, eager to reach an overload together so they could switch positions but once more their olfactory sensors were picking up a sweet scent in the air. They grinded to a stop, looking at each other before turning to their third and realized, not only was he awake, he was playing with himself, clearly aroused by what they were doing. They trembled as they clung to one another but their programming was screaming at them to claim the minibot as their own, to pump their heavily pressurized spikes into his valve, to fill him with so much transfluid, to take him as their mate.

“Bumblebee…”

Yellow digits froze, dark blue optics wide, vents whining painfully as he realized he had been caught, but he didn’t remove his servo. The twins slowly pulled away from one another, a wet suctioning sound as Jetfire lifted himself off Jetstorm, his spike fully pressurized and dripping transfluid. Bee whimpered at the sight as he moved towards him, soon followed by his twin, both with dripping erect spikes, spikes that he was eager to reach out and touch, to taste, to feel pulsing in his valve. He let out a low keening sound, door wings twitching as they arched high on his back struts.

“J-Jetfire… J-jetstorm… pleas-se…” he whimpered as he flexed his digits, flushing as he felt his fluids coat them. Their optics lit up brightly, frames so tense they were trembling, but as he let out another low sound of desire, they both pounced on him, pressing him to the ground but he let them, crying out as eager servos once more roamed his frame. He arched into them, crying out in pleasure as slick glossias caressed his sensitive wings, faceplates flushed as he found himself begging for more of the sinful please. “Ple-aah!-se… need m-more…-Primus!”

“We is wanting you, pretty Bee,” Jetstorm moaned as he traced a transformation cog with his glossia and lightly pinched some wires. He gripped the trembling form tighter as he cried out, arching into him. “We, is hoping you not think of freaks.”

“N-Ne-Ne-ver…” he panted, bucking his hips into an eager servo as digits once more delved into his valve. He winced slightly when they tried spreading him open, as thought to make way for the dripping spike but he froze. He wanted to tell them, to warn them, but the words seemed halted in his throat cables. Luckily the two seemed to sense it as they froze themselves.

“Friend Bee? You, is not wanting this?” Jetfire whispered, his own servo gripping his spike tightly, more than prepared to push it in and experience the tightness but when the yellow minibot looked away, he understood. Slowly removing his digits he gently pushed them inside along with the pale blue digits, stroking the cables and feeling his hips arch into them, but he pushed his in deeper and blinked as the tips brushed over a seal they had failed to notice earlier. Now it made sense, he wanted the, but he had never done this before… Slowly they withdrew their digits and once more drew him into a double embrace. He tensed before clinging to them tightly, door wings trembling slightly. “We is not hurting you.”

“We can be stopping if wanting,” the other said softly. He seemed so eager, but they never wanted to hurt him.

“B… but, I do want it…” he mumbled as he pressed his lips to a smooth shoulder, optics dim. “I… I heard it hurts. It hurt, when I lost my other seal.” It had been long before he joined the Autobots, and it had been painful, he managed to leave before the older mech tried to take his other seal and now… he whimpered in loss as he felt them move, releasing him and having him lay back, but gasped in pleasure as the digits once more pushed their way inside. Once more they sought of sensitive nodes, stroked them until he could feel that oh so wonderful pressure building. He scrambled to hold onto something solid and he did, but it was slick, firm, and almost hot. His optics widen but he didn’t stop his tentative strokes to the two spikes he was currently kneading.

“We is not hurting friend Bee,” Jetstorm panted as he stole a quick kiss, bucking his hips into the warm grip. “We is wanting you feel good, We is wanting friend Bee as mate.”

“M-Mate?” Hadn’t he heard something like that before? He arched and cried out as the digits moved in deeper, not rubbing along the inner seal. It was strange and his past pain tried to make itself known but the pleasure of now was rapidly driving it away.

“Yes. We is wanting Bee as mate,” Jetfire hissed and kissed him wetly, bringing a stabilizer up so he was bared for them. “Letting us mate, very good.”

I… oh Primus… ngh!” he couldn’t think, could process anything except the intense pleasure. His wings thumped against the ground, eagerly for stimulation but it was his valve that wanted more. He bucked into their eager servos, tugging at their spikes, trying to bring them closer, he surprise them (and himself for that matter) as he lifted his helm and took the tip of one of the spikes into his oral cavity and sucked, eagerly swallowing the transfluid as it coated his glossia. Jetstorm moaned, trying very hard not to bury his whole spike inside but it was so good! He shared the sensations with his brother who moaned and the two leaned over their willing mate-to-be and shared a glossia tangling kiss. Between and beneath them Bee took turns at sucking at their spikes, moaning at how good they tasted, begging for their digits to go as deeply as they could, to take his seal. “Pl-Please! Take me! Make me—your mate!” he cried out; the heat and pressure was beginning to get to be too much, if he didn’t overload soon, he was afraid he was going to combust!

“You, You is sure?” one of the asked, he wasn’t sure who but feel an intense heated at his front he could only assure it was Jetfire. Opening hazy optics he found himself straddling the lap of the orange and pale yellow seeker. He didn’t think he could blush anymore when he felt the heated spike (slick with a mix of transfluid and his oral fluids) pressed into his soaked valve. “we is not letting you go. Bee our mate, sparks yours.”

“Y-Yes… my frame, my valve and spike, my sparks… both of yours,” he moaned. He moaned into the passionate kiss, gripping him tightly he felt himself being lifted and trembling in delight as the spike slowly pushed it way inside. Thanks to their talented digits he was able to slid in smoothly and one the tip pressed against the seal. They froze, as though unsure but he couldn’t wait anymore and impaled himself even deeper, breaking the seal and driving the spike much deeper than before. He couldn’t help but let out a sharp cry, wings tensing, frame trembling. Oh that really, _really hurt!_

Jetstorm could feel the pain through his bond, the cables so tight they threaten to break his spike off, but it didn’t stop him from kneeling behind Bee, framing his frame firmly against his backplates and wrapping his arms around him. “Is fine, pain gone soon,” he cooed softly, rubbing his chassis he kissed his cheek plate, merely holding him. Bee could only whimper but he tried to get his system to relax, tried to remember the pleasure earlier.

Nuzzling the top of his helm, bringing a servo up to caress the small horn he turned hidden optics to his twin. ~Brother?~ he asked in concern only to feel his end of the bond flooded with pleasure and some slight discomfort. ~Aah! Is very good!~

~Yesss! Tight, hot, wet, ours!~ he moaned, rubbing at the hips and stabilizers, feeling the cables loosely ever so slightly but he didn’t dare move. He pressed gently kisses to Bee’s faceplates, his audio receiver, his helm, all the while murmuring how much they both cared for him. There had never felt like this about anyone else, and they were still getting to know him and yet they knew deep down in their coding he was the only one for them. He wouldn’t make them chose between him and each other, and he didn’t think them as freaks. “We is loving you, sweet Bee.”

Blue optics blinked as they looked at them each in turn. “Y-You, what?” Had he heard them right?

“We is loving you,” Jetstorm repeated, smiling as he kissed him softly, allowing Jetfire to nuzzle the side of his throat cables, warm servos ghosting along both their sides.

“… I… love you too.” His optic closed but there was a sweet loving smile on his lips as he hugged them as much as he could, enjoying the feel of their arms embracing him tightly. “Love both of you.”

“Sweet Bee… our mate…” Eager lips kissed at heated plating, along trembling door wings, sucking at the bared wired and cables, Bee moaned softly, begging for more when his hips began shifting over Jetfire’s lap the seeker took it as a means to continue. Now he was crying out in pleasure as the spike pushed and pulled its way in and out, rubbing along nodes, rubbing at the remains of his seal. It was good and once more the pressure was building. But bee couldn’t quite reach the peak he was hoping for. Something, something felt like it was missing.

_‘B-but what?’_ he thought, moaning as Jetfire leaned down to trace the insignia on his chassis with his glossia, he hissed in pleasure as Jetstorm nipped and sucked at the thick cables and wires beneath at the side of his throat, his servo having reached between them to rub at the outer rim of his stretched valve. He could feel his spike rubbing at his aft, brushing against his already occupied valve, but he wanted to feel it as well, pushing and rubbing at the nodes the spike inside couldn’t quite reach. “St… storm… frag me…” he whimpered softly, crying out as the other mech gave a hard buck of his hips, making him bounce on his lap.

“Y-Yess… want to spike sweet Bee,” he moaned and panted, rubbing against him as his twin continued to share what he was feeling. He also missed when their mate-to-be said until the words registered in his processor. “What??”

“Spike me now, want to feel both of you inside…” Reaching behind him he slid his servo down until they wrapped around a dripping spike and moaned as the tip rubbing against his valve. Just thinking about it was making him so wet, he let out another low cry and rubbed against him. “I-I need it! Please!”

The twins couldn’t believe that he actually wanted them—at the same time! How long had they dreamed about this, having a mate who was willing to not only accept them but want them! Together! “Yes… together…” they moaned, servos eagerly roaming his frame, EM fields crackling against each other. Jetfire carefully lay back, pulling Bee with him he slid his servos down and slipped his digits inside. Bee whimpered softly, clinging to the mech as the digits stroked and rubbed, coaxing the valve to relax and pulled it open. It was still supple from their earlier play and was leaking so much lubricant, he told his brother to come closer and moaned as he felt the tip of his spike nudge at the opening before pushing in.

“Nngh!!” Okay, that was different! But it was a good different! Bee forced his system to relax, to accept the penetration. He whimpered and clawed at the floor, wings arched sharply as the spike continued to slowly push in, not only pressing into more sensitive nodes but causing the spike that was already inside to press firmly against the others. Every time he tensed they would stop and murmur words of love and encouragement, saying how much they loved him and stroked hot plating. Only when he relaxed did they move. Bumblebee felt like crying when finally (finally!) both spikes were nestled inside his valve. He felt so full, brimming with so much emotion, he could feel his processor threatening to crash he had to halt the shut down several times. Trembling he was unsure what to do but when he shifted his hips the spikes shifted, brushing against something that made him cry out sharply. He froze but his optics had brighten to the point where they were almost white.

“Bee? You, is fine?”

“… m-move… please…” he whispered lowly, digits digging into their plating, nearly denting the strong metal.

“But, you is sure-?”

“Yes!! Please move, frag me, make me overload!!” he shouted, startling the twins but when they didn’t move he whimpered and buried his faceplates into the chassis beneath him, wings shaking as he sobbed brokenly. “Please… frag me… I-I need it…” he whimpered pitifully, slowly rocking himself between then, his valve clutching at eh spikes buried dep inside. Did they not want him because he sounded like some cheap pleasure drone? He didn’t mean to, but the seeker part of him was demanding to be fragged good and hard by these two worthy mates. He belonged to them, he wanted to please them! He wanted to be of use to them! He didn’t realize coolant had seeped from his optics until he felt gentle lips kiss the tears away, soft coos of love filling his receiver, servos embracing him tightly. He tried to apologize, to say how sorry and shameful he was being but he gasped as Jetstorm slowly withdrew until only the tip remained then slowly pushed in, rocking his frame up so Jetfire’s spike nearly slipped out with only the tip remaining. “A-Ahh! M-mechs-!” he whimpered softly, enjoying the rocking motions.

“We—is not want—hurt you,” Jetstorm grunted as he continued thrusting, one of his servos pinned Bee’s to the ground, digits interlocking the other roughly stroked and rubbed at the condensation stroked protomesh, listening to the soft whimpers and panting moans.

“Brother—right!” Jetfire moaned deeply, arching his hips up caused the three of them to cry out as the pace began to pick up, plating causing heavy friction, paint being scraped but neither of them cared. He held bee’s other servo just as tightly, digits interlocked together, but his other fondling the cute wings, caressing seams and moving them up and down. “We—always loving you!”

“F-Fire… St-Storm… oh Primus…!” the yellow seek whimpered and moaned, letting them set the pace but he begged them to go faster, crying out their nicknames eagerly. Now the spikes were pulling and pushing at the same time, ignoring every single node in his valve, stretching it so much, branding him as their own. Once more the peak was within reach but instead of grabbing it he held back, his logic circuitry telling him not yet.

_‘B-but why? I wanna overload with them! Wanna feel their transfluid fill up my tank!’_ he cried out, eager lips kissing him as another attacked his neck cables, unsure who was who but not caring as he submitted to them. He was blearily aware of the plating on his chassis unlatching, of it being removed until he felt a slick glossia licking at eh seams on his bared protoform, making him gasp and tremble in delight. He mewed sharply when he felt them shift and opening his optics (when did he close them?) found himself staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to ask what had happened but mewed and arched his frame once more as eager servos pressed into the seams, trying to coax his chassis open.

“Want bee… spark Bee… bond mates,” Jetfire moaned as his hips snapped back and forth, his pistons rapidly overheating but it was worth it to feel the valve clutch and cling at the two of them, eagerly taking it all in. his own chassis had split open and he pressed their join servos to press against his spark chamber, whimpering at the feeling.

“B-Bond matesss?” Yes, that’s what he wanted, he wanted to belong to them but he wanted to become their bonded as well. His plates shifted open and he cried out as servos reach inside and began stroking and rubbing at the protective casing, making him wither between them. He heard plates pulling back behind him and somehow, managed to twist his upper frame around so his servos could stroke and caresses the twin glowing sparks. “My… bond mates…” he panted, smiling up at them with love and adoration. “Mine…”

“Ours…” It was difficult and their frames protested, but the three of them pressed their bared chassis against one another as much as they could and they cried out as the energies from their charged sparks eagerly reached out to one another, EM fields merging in a bright flash of light. The twins moved harder and faster, clinging to each other as tightly as they could, moaning designations, eager to reach an overload together, after what felt like stellar cycles they did and came with an audio piercing scream. The overstimulated valve released copious amounts of lubricant, tightening around the two spikes, trying to get them to overload in him. When they did he let out a scream that merged their designations together, as though telling the entire plant who he belonged to. The twins grunted and burying themselves as deeply as they could, flooded him with so much transfluid, some of it managed to seep out of the tight seal they had made. A fleeting warning darted across their HUD but by the time they could register it it was too late. Their processors crashed and forced the three of them into a deep recharged but even so they never released from one another, as though not wanting to be parted even in recharge.

It was mega-cycles later when Bumblebee could feel himself onlining from a deep recharge but he was fighting it. He felt far too content and warm to move, he was dimply aware that he had an additional pair of arms. Correctional: TWO pairs of arms around him. He didn’t panic as he remembered clearly what happened and smiled, hugging the arms around him from behind and cuddling against the chassis before him. Maybe he could catch a few more joors of recharge-

He stiffened and bit down on his lip component when he felt the familiar heat spread through him. ‘Bu-But I already overloaded! Twice!’ And yet his system was demanding another fragging session with his two bond mates. Their spikes had slipped out of his valve during their recharge and pulled back into their respective housing and his panel had closed but he could feel lubricant building up. He tried pulling away from the recharging mechs, swallowing the moans as their servos slid from his heated frame. Oh it would be so tempting to lay back down between them, to listen to their gentle hum of their system as they recharged, but the need was too great. _‘O-Oh Primus!’_ Thick drops of silvery pink fluids raced down the inside of his stabilizer, making him want to keen softly but he only managed to crawl a few steps away before he froze and let out a low keening sound, sitting back on his knee joints. Without warning his panel slid open and his stabilizers opened up. He watched as more lubricant began falling and his spike began to pressurize, his cod piece having never slid back down. _‘W-Why-y-y?’_ he whimpered pitifully, servos shaking as he fought the urge to touch himself. He didn’t have to as arms slid around him, two forms pressing into his sides. He opened his mouth to speak but mewed wantonly as one servo wrapped around his spike and began stroking firmly, another moving between stabilizers and delved into his valve.

“We is forgetting to mention,” Jetfire began as he stroked and rubbed the valve, licking at the smooth glass of his door wing.

“Heat cycles, lasting long time,” Jetstorm continued as he mouthed at the cables and wires, licking his panting lips.

“H-heat cycle?” Well that made sense. This heat felt like it was burning up inside. He found himself being maneuvered onto his servos and cried out as digits continued rubbing an stroking his valve from behind, wet suction noises heard and making him flush. “H-How long-ahh Primus!-does it las-st?”

“Long long _long_ time,” came the purring answer as the blue seeker moved before him, watching as he nuzzled his servo before guiding it to his spike which had pressurized once more. “But, it more fun with bond mates.”

“Yes, much more fun,” Jetfire grinned as he gripped the slender hips and rubbed his own pressurized spike along his valve, letting the lubricant coat the highly sensitive protoflesh.

Long long _long_ time?! Part of him wanted to balk at it but feelings of lust, desire, want/need, and most importantly love flooded his spark and he sent it right back. Smirking he looked up at the mech kneeling before him as he opened his mouth and began licking his spike clean, rocking his hips against the other prodding at his aft. “Can you two keep up?” he teased. It was clearly a challenge, but one they were both more than happy to take on.

* * *

Getting a very large, audio splitting reprimand from Sentinel Prime was worth it, even being forced to clean out the wash racks for the next orn was worth it for as soon as the three seekers managed to make it back to headquarters Bumblebee immediately moved his things into the twins’ quarters. The twins wanted to put it an order for a larger berth since they pushed their own single berths together to form one but Bee didn’t mind. It only meant the three of them would have to press in close when they recharged. They liked the idea very much.

Neither of them came out and said what happened, they weren’t ashamed but bee pointed out there had no right to know and if they couldn’t accept it, then they were bigger glitches than he thought. He was also quick to defend his bond mates when someone spoke ill of them such as the way they spoke or that part of their CAN was Decepticon, but he pointed out so was his and if they had a problem with that then they had better get over it quickly. Not even Wasp and Ironhide bothered him, claiming he wasn’t worth it. Longarm though, he just didn’t know when to quit.

“Good job out there, Bumblebee,” he called out after a rather rigorous training session. It was true, the minibot had gotten better at landing, he wasn’t crashing as much, and his aim was even better than Wasp’s.

“Yeah, thanks,” he murmured quietly, rubbing the cleaning cloth over his frame he frowned when he realized he couldn’t clean the middle of his backplates, it was just out of his reach. Frowning he rummaged in his locker for the brush he used but he groaned when he realized he had loaned it to another mech who had yet to return it to him. ‘Great, just great.’ He closed his locker angrily, slamming the door closed he jumped when he felt a servo there and unintentionally whirled and pressed himself into the lockets. “What the slag?!”

“I saw you needed some help getting clean, I don’t mind helping you out,” he said as he held up the cleaning cloth.

“Yeah well, next time try asking first!” Geez, could he be anymore creepy? He turned and made to leave but stopped when a long arm appeared in front of his faceplates, another coming up until he found himself caged, the dark gray and black frame pressing him into the row of lockers none too gently. “Back off, Longarm!!”

“You’re really something else, Bee. Sentinel’s too blind to see but I think you’ll be outranking him soon enough,” he murmured, bring his servos closer he began to stroke and openly grope the twitching wings, pinching the tips and trying to get at hidden wires when they angrily twitched away from him. “So, seeker’s wings are as sensitive as they say. Interesting.”

“S-Stop it!” he hissed. He liked having his wings touched, especially when his bond mates buffed them. As soon as they were done he was begging them to frag him as his wings twitched happily. He jerked and quickly snapped his stabilizers together as a servo groped at his panel, gripping the servo tightly. “I said, stop it!”

“How about no.” No one was due to come here for a few joors, long enough to show the minibot what he was missing but before he could get any farther that was blast of super-heated air that struck him from the side with enough force he was sent flying into a wall, leaving a very deep, frame size mark on the thick metal plating. Everything was glitching, processor trying to reset but as he looked up he saw the enraged glares coming from the jettwins.

“You is being lucky bond mate telling us to stop,” Jetfire said coolly despite the fact that flickers of flames could be seen over his frame, optics burning like the fiery Pitt itself. Behind him Jetstorm was holding a shaken up Bumblebee, running a servo along a trembling door wing.

“B-B-Bond-d ma-mates-s-s…?” he stuttered slightly, trying to pull himself from the wall but nothing was responding.

“Next time you is touching our Bee, we is using you for target practice,” Jetstorm warned and together the two lead the minibot out, an arm wrapped around his slender waist possessively.

“Hey wait a klik,” Bee said, pausing at eh entrance to the locker rooms he turned to face the taller mech and frowned. “It’s Bumblebee, you pervy aft!” Sticking his glossia out at him they left, ignoring the curious gazes from others as they walked down the hall. Once they were far enough away and heading closer to their quarters he sagged between the embrace of his bond mates, venting heavily. “I can’t believe he tried to do that! Gah, now I need another wash!” He could still feel his servos on him and he hated it. His door wings twitched angrily but they began to calm as the familiar and loving touches of the pale blue and yellow servos stroked the warm plating, making him purr softly. “Much better…” he moaned softly.

“We is having time… maybe, we is spending time in quarters?” Jetfire grinned, tracing the interior panels inside his wings, having found out recently they were particularly sensitive to his heated touch.

“And-aah!-what would be-oooh!-b-be doing?” Oh that felt so good, he would have fallen if the blue mech didn’t lift him up so he could wrap his stabilizers around his waist, servos around his shoulders.

“Testing new berth? Stronger, not break.” That had been both embarrassing and somewhat proud moment when they explained how they had broken their single berths after a rather rigorous ‘bout of ‘facing with their bond mate when they had had gotten into a few cubes of high grade.

“Sounds like fun. Sure you two can keep up?” His smirked was mirrored by two and he held on happily as his bond mates raced to their quarters, slipping inside and locking the door behind them. Had anyone walked by they would have heard muffled cries and shouts as the three bond mates eagerly fragging one another, proving their deep love and admirations to one another.

**Author’s Notes:** Its done! Yay it’s done, it’s finally done! (begins cheering only to erupt into dry coughs) S-Sorry! I think I caught some nasty bug from a coworker of mine a few days ago. I’ve gotten better but now have this super annoying dry cough. Even my lungs hurt when I laugh or breathe too hard.

Okay, this chapter is for jisko2ijsko on AO3 and it’s the first threesome! (Woo!) Now I admit, I was trying to figure out how to write this since the reviewer wanted Bee to have some seeker CAN which lead to his door wings. So I figure Bee’s creator was a ground type and his sire was a seeker, one of those “one-night stances” clichés. Now for Bee’s car mode I did some reason and remember this REALLY old cartoon that I think helped me fall in love with Transformers called M.A.S.K. (Mobile Attack Strike Kommand). His alt mode is a corvette but in the cartoon/toy the doors swing open to act as wings and the rear wheels shift so they turn into hover jets. Yeah I know, sounds a lot like Tracks. Oh I initially wanted to use his alt mode but then Bee woulda been too big so for the same of this one-shot, he’s a compact corvette. And really, taking off and flying is easy! It’s the whole landing thing that gave Bee trouble so Ultra Magnus decides he should learn from seekers. Ta da, a plot! (jazz hands)

So, let me know what you think! jisko2ijsko, I really **really** hope you enjoyed it ^^

Next up: _WaspinatorxBumblebee (techno organic)_

_SafeguardxBumblebee_

_RatchetxBumblebee_

_Longarm/ShockwavexBumblebee_

_AutobotsxBumblebee_ (okay, this one might be multi chapters due to the list of characters I have planned out ^^)

_Cyberwolf ProwlxCyberwolf Bumblebee_

BTW, in case you requested a one-shot and you don’t see it here, please let me know! I feel like I’m missing one but for some reason, I can’t remember or find it. Also, I reposted the first “chapter” so please have a look. Thanks!


	7. WaspinatorxBumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackarachnia kidnapped Bumblebee, but what’s more, she turned him into a techno-organic as well! How is Bee going to survive this? Why can’t he stop buzzing? And why is Waspinator always cornering him against the wall? Hey! Keep those servos to yourself!

**Author’s Notes:** Blackarachnia kidnapped Bumblebee, but what’s more, she turned him into a techno-organic as well! How is Bee going to survive this? Why can’t he stop buzzing? And why is Waspinator always cornering him against the wall? Hey! Keep those servos to yourself!

Queen Bee

Pairing: WaspinatorxBumblebee (techno-organic)

Requested: Anonymous Guest (FF)

What did she do? What in the Pitt did she do?! Bumblebee could only stare at his servos, trying to tell himself this was a really bad defrag, but no matter how many times he shuttered his optics his servos never changed. He didn’t realize the door to the capsule opened until he heard the last vocalization he ever wanted to hear.

“Come on, kiddo, don’t be shy,” came a seductive vocalizer from the black and violet femme. Bee froze, refusing to turn to the one responsible for this living nightmare of his. “… So you’re going to be difficult, I’ll just have to drag you myself,” she muttered to herself.

_‘She did this to me…’_ His despair was quickly melting into anger, he felt his horns-whatever they were now, twitch and saw his shadow grow, could hear the almost quiet clicks of her peds as she moved closer. No, no he was not some experiment to be used! Dropping to his servos, he crouched low, turned his helm to the side and waited. As soon as the stabilizer was close enough, he lashed out with his ped. His own stabilizers were a lot longer than he was used to as not only did his ped connected with the other, he heard and felt something give way with a loud crack.

“Aaaah!” Blackarachnia cried out, unable to remain standing she quickly fell back onto the floor, hissing angrily as she grabbed at her damaged stabilizer. Oh that hurt! It hurt a lot! She could feel the broken plating and energon leaking out, and she grew even more pissed off, optics narrowing at the stumbling yellow and black form as he ran past her.

He had to get outta here; he wasn’t going to be turned inside out like she had planned with Wasp! He tried running but he felt like he was shifting from side to side; his new frame didn’t feel as bulky as his previous mode, but it was larger, taller, and it seemed most of his weight was centered behind him, but it didn’t stop him from running. He never heard the femme move as he felt something wrap around his peds, tying them together. His new wings buzzed as he felt his frame pitch forward, trying to keep him up, but he ended up hitting the floor with a loud thud.

_‘What good are these things if I can’t fly?’_ he asked himself bitterly, rolling onto his backplates he stared at the sticky stuff that caused him to trip. He made to tear it off but stared up at the black and violet femme as she walked up to him, clearly having no issue using her techno-organic form so easily. _‘But she had stellar cycles to get used to it.’_

“I was going to let you adjust to your new form, but no more miss nice femme,” she hissed, ignoring the pain sensors radiating from her stabilizer. She would have to treat it soon but first, she was going to make this bug pay! Hissing angrily she charged at him, wanting to inject him with her cyber venom.

Bee would have been terrified if he had seen her, would have said something sassy back at her, but he was so angry at her doing this to him and he was done being afraid. Narrowing his optics, he pulled his peds apart and was mildly surprised at how easily he managed to snap the sticky webbing apart but he wasn’t done. He pulled his peds to his chassis, braced his servos behind his helm, and once she was close enough lashed out, arching and throwing his frame into the lunge. He had the satisfaction of catching the femme off-guard, sending her flying onto her backplates and slamming her helm onto the floor. Behind him his wings buzzed in response to his anger but it looked like he had caused her processor to temporarily shut down. That was well and good but now what? He couldn’t stay here, what if Wasp was around and locked him in some cage?

He looked around, trying to find a way out and noticed a large window high above them. It was too high for him to jump, maybe if he had his boosters—wait, he had wings! They didn’t seem strong enough but he had to try, he didn’t want to be offlined here! _‘Here goes nothing—and everything!’_ He launched himself into the air, dimly aware of the sound of cracking of armor plating and the sound of the femme crying out in pain, his wings buzzing loudly behind him. Yes! Yes it was working he thought to himself, flying higher but as he gave the command to transform he found himself about the same size of his vehicle mode but he felt lighter, he was faster and he had more control over his flight. Buzzing loudly he charged for the windows, using his new mass to break through the glass. He was now free but he didn’t give himself long to enjoy it as he flew off. He had to go back to the others; maybe Ratchet could find a way to turn him back.

_‘He has to!’_ he thought fervently to himself, urging his new wings to go as fast as they could, hoping they wouldn’t give out on him halfway.

* * *

Bee wasn’t sure how long he flew for, or even if he was going in the right direction. His new optics in this techno-organic form was really strange. He felt as though he had a dozen optics seeing at once, making him slightly dizzy at first but his processor was quick to stabilize him. Soon he could make out the buildings of New Detroit and vented in relief. He had driven around this cityscape so much, it would be easy to find his way back to the factory! He longed to fly lower and race back but hearing the continuous buzzing of his new features made him a bit sadden. He could no longer drive anywhere, and he seriously doubted the organics would take to his new form kindly. He had seen the entertainment vids (movies, Sari had called them movies) and the organics did not appreciate Autobot-sized creatures. So he was careful not to fly too low, keeping an optic out for the factory.

After about a joor of looking Bumblebee was beginning to get discouraged. He had never taken an opportunity to see the cityscape from high above like this, and what good was memorizing the streets and signs when he couldn’t navigate them? And he was also beginning to get hungry…

_‘Can I even ingest energon anymore?’_ His fuel indication was alerting him but what was he going to do if he couldn’t? He tried not to dwell on it and continued scouring the tops of the buildings, wondering if he was ever going to find home when he saw something green peering out of the top structure. Why did it seem familiar? Why did he feel hungrier looking at it? Making sure there weren’t any organics around he flew in lower, transforming he landed on the roof quietly. The green material was organic, native to the cityscape, but as he moved closer the scent was oh so wonderful! He slowly crawled up to it, noticing something on it he cautiously reached out and plucked one. It was a flower, tiny in his servo with soft white petals but lifting it to his faceplates he found the smell to be sweet. He didn’t realize his glossia was out until the tip touched the inside. Oh this was good! Very good! But it wasn’t enough, he needed more. He reached out, intending on taking more but as he peered into the area where the organic was growing he saw a sleek mech sitting on the floor, his backplates to the opening.

_‘Prowl!!’_ he felt like shouting and felt his wings buzz happily. He had done it, he had found his home! He was so happy he forgot about his hunger and carefully climbed his way through the hole, keeping his wings firmly to his frame he climbed down the base of the tree (that’s why it had seemed so familiar) and jumped the remaining distance, landing much louder than he had intended. He prepared himself to run at his friend and tell him how glad he was here-

Only to immediately duck and cover his helm with his servos as a sharp shuriken sliced the air above him, embedding itself into the tree. He hadn’t seen the Cyber Ninja move but his frame had reacted instinctively. His optics were huge as he looked at the shocked expression on his faceplates. Slowly Bee sat up, glancing at the weapon before turning to the still shocked mech and raised a servo in what he hoped he took as a greeting. “Uhh… hi?”

“Bumblebee?” Could, could it really be him? No, that… that wasn’t possible! But even so he slowly stood, staring at him for a few kliks. He wanted to call for Ratchet or Optimus, but what if he scared him away? Instead he took a cautious step forward, watching the overly large organic carefully. From what he remembered from the entertainment vids these types of organics did not like quick movements, and could see it as a potential threat. Moving closer he slowly held his servo up but stopped when it flinched, the delicate looking wings buzzing nervously behind him. “It’s alright,” he spoke calmly, lifting his other servo to show he was holding nothing. “I won’t hurt you.”

Bee nervously glanced at the shuriken still stuck in the tree before turning back to the ninja. He looked apologetic and he didn’t blame him. No one came into Prowl’s room unless they were looking for him and looking the way he did, he probably woulda done the same thing! His wings buzzed nervously but he crawled away from the base of the tree, his “horns” twitching as he continued studying the mech before him. In his spark he knew Prowl was a friend and would never intentionally hurt him, but his processor was trying to make certain that he wasn’t a threat. He stopped and looked at him, wings buzzing quieter now. He sat back on his stabilizers and watched as the ninja did the same. It was quiet for a few kliks but his “horns” quivered and he looked sharply at the door as it opened.

“Alright Prowl, what’s so important you couldn’t come to the medbay?” Ratchet grumbled, slowly entered the room. Just as he was about to recharge for a bit he had to be called out, and now he was hearing this annoying buzzing sound.

“Ratchet, wait-”

“Rat-bzzzt -chet?” Bee buzzed, sitting up straighter. Ratchet was a medic, he could help him! He could turn him back to normal! His wings buzzed louder, but he should have known better. After seeing Prowl react, why did he think the medbot would react any differently?

“W-What the!?” The CMO didn’t know what to make of the large creature in the room and on instinct his servo came up, his magnets sliding out. He aimed it at the organic and for a brief astrosec, was taken back by the large soft blue optics.

“Ratchet, don’t!” the ninja said immediately, having jumped to his peds and stood protectively before the techno-organic. “This is Bumblebee!”

“What?” It had the same coloring as the minibot, and the optics were the same, but… was it really him? He watched as the buzzing creature peered around the ninja, his optics large and looking nervous, as though he shouldn’t have done something and was now going to be caught. A look he was all too familiar with. “Kid… wha-what the slag happened?” he asked quietly, letting his magnets pull back but didn’t approach the changed mech.

“I don’t know, he just appeared,” Prowl admitted and slowly turned to face the organic who was still crouched behind him, clearly afraid. “Bumblebee?” The large insect blinked and looked up at him; at least he still knew his name. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

He blinked and stared down at his servos. They were smaller, with longer digits, everything about him was different but he didn’t like it. “Bzzzt zpider femme caught me… changed bzzzt me…” he buzzed quietly, watching as his servos clenched into fists. “I ran bzzzt away… looking for every-bzzzt-bot… “ He remembered the tasty flowers from the tree but decided not to tell the ninja in case he got mad. Blinking he slowly stood, not realizing he nearly towered over the ninja as he looked at the surprised medic. “Rat-chet can fix me… change me bzzzt-back!” he buzzed happily but why did he look sad? “Yez?”

“Kid… I-I don’t know where to begin,” he said quietly even as he reached up to rub the back of his neck cables. “Even if I knew what that femme did, there’s no guarantee that I could change you back to your old self. I could change you into something else or worse, offline you.”

So, the grouchy medic wouldn’t help him? But, he helped everyone else! “Rat-chet, can bzzzt try?” he offered hopefully. The bulky mech slowly closed his optics, refusing to look at him.

“I can’t… I’m sorry, kid.”

He, he couldn’t change him back. Then, that meant he’d never be able to race down the streets of New Detroit, never be able to play video games with Sari, never be able to go back to Cybertron… he may as well be offlined right now! He didn’t realize his stabilizers gave out under him, causing him to sit on the floor, or that coolant was leaking from his optics until they spilled down his faceplates.

“Bumblebee…” Prowl had never seen the scout like this before he didn’t hesitate in kneeling before him. He wanted to try and offer words of comfort but what could he say? Even if they captured Blackarachnia and forced her to change him back, it could destroy him. He reached out with a servo, unsure what to do but rested it atop of the organic helm between the two long appendages. He felt him tremble under his touch but gently rubbed the warm, hoping it would soothe him. “It’s going to be alright Bumblebee, we’ll figure something out.”

Alright? Alright?! How was everything going to be alright?! His lifecycle was ruined!! Feeling the servo on his helm he jerked away, his wings snapped up as they began to buzz angrily. “How izz every- bzzzt -thing gonna bzzzt be a-lright? How?!” His logic circuitry was trying to point out that Prowl was just trying to help but that wasn’t helping him in the slightest. He wanted to be back to normal!! He wanted his old, bulky frame back!! He wanted his lifecycle back!!

“Slag. Kid, you gotta calm down!” Ratchet said, moving forward to see if he could calm him but as he reached out to touch him he pulled back with a small shout, shaking his singed servo. The transformed minibot was emitting an electrical charge that he didn’t seem aware of. Perhaps, when his cybernetic parts had been forcefully changed, the power cells that charged his stingers shifted to become a line of defense.

Prowl knew his annoying friend was becoming highly agitated, he was crouched low on the ground, wings arched high and buzzing at an extremely rapid pace. Any wrong move and there was no telling what he would do but he knew that they had to keep him here. “Bumblebee, I know you’re upset but we will do everything we can to change you back,” he spoke lowly, ignoring the pings from the others. Even with his door closed they no doubt knew something was wrong.

Upset? No, he was more than upset. He was extremely pissed off. “I want my frame bzzzt back,” he buzzed lowly, slowly backing up, jumping when he backed up into the tree but at least they couldn’t come behind him.

“Bumble-”

“No!! I bzzzt want bzzzt my frame bzzzt back!!” he shouted, buzzing even louder as he stood to his full height, wings buzzing so rapidly now he didn’t realize he was hovering in the air. The electrical charge had grown, the soft fur on his chassis was beginning to puff up, making him look comically bigger. The two Autobots were torn, wanting to help their friend but first they had to calm him down. But before they could the door opened and their team leader stepped in.

“What’s going on, Prowl? I’ve-” he froze when he caught sight of the large organic and stared at the large organic before him. He froze but already he was reaching into his subspace for his axe.

“Optimus, don’t!” Prowl shouted, hoping he would listen.

“Prowl! Ratchet! Get away from that organic!” he shouted even as his servo wrapped around the handle, ready to pull it free.

“It’s not just an organic, it’s Bumblebee!”

“What?!”

“Prime! Stand down!”

Bumblebee’s antennas were tense as they flickered back and forth, sensing the tension in the air. His logic circuits were trying to fight for control, but his new organic instincts were taking up all his processing power. They weren’t going to help him, they weren’t going to try! Now everyone was yelling, he knew he had to get away from here.

Ratchet could see the techno-organic heading for the opening in the roof and activating his magnets, shot out a pulse that latched onto him. He was part organic but he was still part cybertronium, so while he was able to keep him from leaving he couldn’t pull him down. Especially when he began panicking and was trying to fight off the magnetic pull. “Kid! Calm down!”

“Ratchet, stop! You’re making it worse!” the ninja shouting but even he was trying to figure a way to keep the transformed minibot here with them.

Optimus decided to forgo his Ultra-Axe, bringing his servo up the small panel opened and he fired his bolo, watching as it wrapped around the buzzing figure, pinning his arms to his sides as well as his wings. Thanks to the CMO’s magnets he was lowered to the floor but he was still struggling, the buzzing growing louder than before as he struggled to get free. “Are you certain that’s Bumblebee?” he asked, watching the figure carefully.

“Who else would it be?” the medic snapped, pulling out his EMP generator he began to mess with the levels to put the kid into stasis, at least so he could examine him. Had he always been this strong but hid it from everyone? Or was this a side-effect of his organic half? Whatever it was he had to try and save him.

Bee could feel panic settling in, wings practically vibrating. No, he didn’t want to be trapped again! He didn’t want to be experimented upon! Flashbacks of what the femme did to him hit him hard, the pain as his frame was forcefully changed, begging to be let out only to fall upon muted receivers; he no longer saw his friends, all he saw were mechs who wanted to experiment on him. The electrical charge was so strong now, the current dancing along his plating and even his wings, he struggled until finally, the bolo snapped off, freeing him. Turning to the white mech who had been approaching him he quickly lashed out with his ped, catching him in the chassis. Like before his strength had been magnified greatly, the sharp tips of his ped tore through the plating and the force sent him flying back, hitting the wall with a sound that shook the walls. Ratchet let out a sharp cry of pain but he fell to the floor with a loud groan of pain.

“Ratchet!!” The Prime took the worse moment to look away as he was tackled from the front, landing heavily on his backplates with a painful grunt. Hearing the buzzing he was shocked to see the large organic crouched on his chassis. He didn’t seem that heavy but he watched as he took to the air above him and watched as something black, the sharp tip glinting in the light as it slid from the organic’s backplates. He had never seen anything like it and he tried to get up, to move, but he was shocked when he realized his system had been overcharged. His relays were having a difficult time resetting but it wouldn’t be in time. His optics widen as the yellow and black mech flew down, aiming the sharp tip right for him.

_‘C’mon! Move!’_ he shouted to himself but it was no use. He was doomed.

No one was going to lock him and experiment on him! No one!! Bumblebee’s stinger was so heavily charged, his focus was solely on the spark hidden behind the red but it never connected. Instead he pierced the smooth plating, burying it completely into the Cyber Ninja. Realization hit the techno-organic much too late, even as he withdrew the damage was done.

Prowl weakly lifted a servo to touch the hole in the middle of his chassis, feeling his stabilizers give out from under him. “B-Bum… ble… beeee…” he called out weakly, a fleeting error of entering emergency stasis before his system shut down and he crashed to the floor.

“Pro-bzzzt-wl…?” No, no, oh by the AllSpark no! What had he done?! Bee looked around at his fallen friends and once more panic set in. He wasn’t an Autobot, not when he hurt his friends like this. He was a monster… his wings buzzed rapidly and flew through the branches of the tree, ignoring the tasty flowers and flew as fast as he could, taking him far from the factory and far from the cityscape he had grown to love. He was a danger to everyone. _‘I… I’m a monzter…’_

* * *

The newly formed techno-organic wasn’t sure where he was going but he knew he had been flying for joors. He never realized the sun had begun to set and the skies had turned from a gentle sky blue to a deep dark blue indicating night. The stars hadn’t come out yet but his wings were beginning to hurt and his energy levels were getting low. Looking down he saw nothing but trees as for vuns, maybe even hics. Wherever he had flown, it was far from the Robot City which meant there was no one around he could hurt.

A harsh wind hit him and he trembled as it slightly blew him off-course, wings struggling to remain steady. Flying low he landed in a small clearing, folding his wings tightly to his frame. He looked around and he was instantly reminded of the time Prowl had taken him and Sari camping. The only difference was there was no cold snow, and he was alone. Another cold wind hit him and he found himself trembling, servos coming up to wrap around himself tightly. He never felt the wind before, not like this. Was this because he was now half organic?

_‘I gotta find zomewhere to hide,’_ he thought and looked around. He had no idea where to begin but his processor was telling him to look for a hole in the ground, somewhere deep where he would be safe. That was confusing, he thought all flying bugs lived in trees but what did he know? He walked forward a bit, buzzing in an attempt to stay warm and grabbed some tasty looking flowers, eating slowly as his glossia licked out the center of each one until he finally located what appeared to be a cave. Normally he would have been wary, he didn’t want a repeat of his last camping trip, especially now, but as another wind blew by, ruffling his fur he walked in. The thin antennas twitched, his optics able to see still in the dark he was relieved to find it empty. It was pretty deep but the farther in he went the colder it was. Instead he settled along a wall and sitting licked at the remaining flowers he had. His levels were slightly elevated but he knew he had to get a lot more flowers if he was going to survive out here. Venting softly Bee lay on the cold, hard ground and curled up as tightly as he could, tucking his long limbs against his chassis, resembling a fuzzy ball of yellow and black. He wasn’t sure what prompted him to do this, but he could still feel himself buzzing in a vain attempt to stay warm.

_‘What doez it matter, I’m a monzter.’_ Seeing the shocked looks on the faceplates of his team, attacking them, piercing Prowl’s chassis, he shut his optics tightly and curled in on himself as tightly as he could. “I wizh they bzzzt had offlined me…” he buzzed to himself quietly, falling into a quiet stasis. If Primus was listening, maybe he’d had pity on him and not let him ever wake up. Soon he was deep in recharge, he never realized that the cave wasn’t as empty as he believed.

Deep in the cave a pair of purplish-eyes opened, a quiet buzzing sound heard as the figure crept forward. The moon’s soft light lit up the entrance of the cave, almost touching where Bee had curled up but it was enough for the quiet figure to see and it made him buzz even louder.

_‘Bumble-bot different… but not matter, Wazzpinator destroy Bumble-bot!’_ he thought to himself, letting the charge build between his smaller set of servos, prepared to destroy the glitch who ruined his lifecycle, but he froze when the bot twitched and buzzed himself, a broken sob escaping his vocalizer.

“Pleazze… offline me bzzzt…”

“!!”

“I’m bzzzt… a monzzter…”

A monster? He stared at the fuzzy form, optics taking in the new changes he found himself kneeling down and ran a servo through the yellow and black striped fur. It was so soft! He wanted to continue touching him, to see it all of it was as soft as it felt but he froze when the frame buzzed, curling even tighter in on himself. Bumble-bot was cold but he wasn’t trying to get warm. He really did want to be die…

Waspinator stared down at his enemy for a long time, part of him arguing he should just leave him to die as he wanted, but he surprised himself as he slid his servos under him and cradling him against his chassis. He froze when the figure shifted, thinking he was waking up but instead he curled into him with a soft vent, he even buried his faceplates into the side of his neck cables. He didn’t mean to, but looking down he cycled his scent and found it to be sweet with a hint of oil and energon. The green techno-organic didn’t realize he was nuzzling his enemy and forced himself to stop. Holding him close he stood to his full height and slowly walked to the back of the cave that he had been calling home since the explosion.

_‘Wazzpinator will not let Bumble-bot die,’_ he thought to himself. No, the new techno-organic would live.

* * *

The newly transformed Bumblebee didn’t know how long he had slept for but as much as he didn’t want to wake up and face the nightmare that was his new lifecycle, his hunger refused to be ignored. What’s more, there was something sweet nearby and he was being forced him his sleep cycle even more. Buzzing lowly he slowly opened his optics and took a klik to reorient himself.

He was still in a cave but deeper to where he couldn’t hear or feel the winds outside. He was also curled up on what appeared to be a “nest” of grass and leaves. It wasn’t his berth at the factory but it was certainly better than the ground. Slowly he pushed himself up with her servos, looking around before his attention was caught by the small pile of brightly colored flowers. It was sitting close to where he had been sleeping but he certainly didn’t remember picking any of these. He was right to be wary but once more his new primal instincts were overtaking his logic and he reached out to take one of the flowers and licked out the center. It was really sweet and before he knew it he was lapping the sweet nectar in each one, taking his time in tasting each and every one but before he knew it, he had finished the last one and he was still hungry.

_‘But, who brought them?’_ he thought, wings buzzing softly behind him. The back of the cave actually felt warm and he was finding himself curious. Slowly standing he began to explore and could see evidence that something lived him, something as big as him, maybe bigger judging by the other nest he noticed a bit further back but also what looked like broken machinery. Moving farther he found that the reason it was so warm was that there was a natural hot spring surrounded by softly glowing rocks. While the hot waters looked very inviting his curiosity was taken in by the strange rock formation. The way they were glowing, reminded him strongly of energon. He reached out, picking up a servo-sized piece and ran a quick scan only to find out it _was_ energon in its raw form! He had heard rumors that originally energon came in different forms but he had never seen it like this before!

_‘Now I won’t ztarve!’_ he thought happily and began biting down onto the crystal, his denta breaking through. It wasn’t like the cubes he had been used to but right now he didn’t care. That lifecycle was behind him now and it seemed Primus was allowing him to stay online for just a bit longer. Bee never realize the cave’s original owner had come back as he continued eating.

When Waspinator returned he was surprised to find the “nest” he had made for Bumble-bot empty and the flowers having been eaten, so he thought he had left until he heard the unmistaken sounds of a energon crystal being eaten. Stilling his wings he walked towards the back and took a moment to study the new techno-organic. His processor was still trying to get over and this was Bumble-bot who had taken everything away from him, but there was something about his new form that made his internal systems heat up. He was taller, slender with curves, and that light covering of fur adoring him had been so soft. He wanted to feel more but as he froze when the yellow and black striped figure froze then quickly whirled to face him. Blue optics widen and the remains of the crystal fell from limp servos.

“Wazp…” Bee said quietly, a surge of fear coursing through his new frame. He remembered the last time they had meet and he had tried to destroy him. But it wasn’t just that, his new instincts were telling him to get away from him, that he was a threat he could not handle alone. But that was a problem wasn’t it? He was stuck in the back of the cave with no escape in sight, his system was freezing up in fear, and he was all alone. Maybe Primus really did want him dead afterall.

“… it Wazzpinator now,” he spoke lowly, buzzing quietly. He took a step closer then stopped when he watched him shrink back in fear, curling in on himself to try and make himself smaller. “Bumble-bot different now. Why?”

Why? That’s what he wanted to know even if he already knew the answer. “Was bzzzt botnapped by Black-bzzzt-arachnia,” he admitted. Behind him his wings gave a nervous buzz as he pressed his backplates into the cave’s walls. If he could keep away from him, maybe he could think of a way to fly out of here.

“Zzpider femme change you?” He had really thought she had been his friend, he felt a new wave of anger wash over him. Who said she could change his enemy into this? He certainly never gave her his permission! Buzzing louder he walked closer to the terrified mech, corning him until he was trapped between the rocky walls and his own frame, his servos coming up to grasp the rock on either side of him, trapping him even more. Once more he was lured in by the sweet scent of him; optics dimmed as he lowered his helm and pressed his faceplates into his neck cables, taking in more of his scent.

Bumblebee could feel heat rushing through his cables, fear keeping him frozen. For a astrosec he through he was going to eat him but instead he was—sniffing him? “W-Wazp?” he asked quietly, afraid to do anything else and shut his optics tightly as he heard him buzz louder in what he thought was anger.

“It Wazzpinator,” he repeated but didn’t stop in his exploration. The fur covering his chassis was still as soft as he remembered, warm too. He nuzzled the soft fluff, buzzing in content his servos reach down and trailed up and down his sides. He had the curves of a femme and he wanted to know what it would feel like to press their frames together. His servos curled over his hips, trying to pull him close but was rudely pushed by expectantly. He regained his balance and buzzed angrily at the bumbler but this time he wasn’t backing down.

“Zervos off!!” he buzzed angrily, wings opened up as they fanned out behind him, trying to make himself look bigger than he originally was. Yes he was still scared of him and wanted to get as far away as possible, but he wasn’t going to let him touch him like that! And if he tried it again, he was going to ram his new stinger right into him. Waspinator stopped buzzing, looking for him several long kliks before folding his wings back.

“… follow me,” he said then simply turned and walked back to where the nests were located. Bumblebee was confused but after a klik or two followed him. He was overjoyed when he noticed another small pile of flowers and dashing towards them crouched down and began licking out the center. It wasn’t energon but it was still good! He buzzed happily as he continued feeding, completely forgetting about the predatory insect watching him. Waspinator watched him, admiring his new frame, the way he moved, how his wings would buzz and arch. He was also stronger than last time.

“Why doezz bumble-bot go to Autobotzz for help?” he asked suddenly. Bee froze, his glossia sticking out ready to lap at the sweet nectar of the flower he was holding before it pulled back into his mouth and he lowered his servos.

“… I can’t…”

“Why?”

“Becauze.”

“Becauzze why?”

“I juzt can’t, okay?!” he snapped at him angrily, buzzing harder than before. He couldn’t forget what he had done, who he had hurt. Ratchet even said he couldn’t fix him, so why should he stay and risk hurting those he cared about? Suddenly he didn’t feel hungry anymore and pushed the flowers away from him. “I don’t wanna talka-bzzzt-bout it.”

Waspinator said nothing but he knew something happened and he no longer felt safe there. He was willing to die in the cold rather than go to them. Anger once more tried to dominate his logics but he held them back and watched him. “Wazzpinator heard Bumbler… zzaying you are a monzzter.” Wings immediately stopped buzzing but he refused to look at him. “Bumbler… wantzz to die?”

“… why didn’t you?” he asked quietly, silently wrapping his servos around his frame as he refused to look at him. He was quiet for several kliks before he lifted his helm and looked at him. “Why were you alwayz a glitch to me in boot camp?” the question clearly threw the green mutated mech back and it was his turn to look away, his own wings falling silent. Bee frowned and he moved onto his knee joints, looking at him intently. “I tried bzzt being your friend, b-bzzzt-ut you acted like a-a glitch! zo why?” Waspinator was quiet for a long time and just when Bee thought he wasn’t going to get an answer he spoke up so quietly he crawled over to hear him better.

“Wazzpi—Wazzp, alwayzz liked Bumbler… but no one ever believed in minibots. Zzay, we are not Elite material.” It wasn’t like he could change his frame, and even so who’s to say a minibot couldn’t be an Elite Guard? “Wanted to prove everyone wrong, to zzhow them Wazzp—I could be one. Ironhide and Longarm would teazze me, zzaying I zzhould zztop getting in the way but I zzhowed them.” It had been tough and there had been fights, but he had proven he could keep up with them during training simulations but in the process, he had acted cruel and aloof to Bumblebee, a minibot who was trying to prove he was just as good as everyone else. “Bumbler—You, reminded me of me. I wanted to prove I wazz better, that I wazzn’t zzome minibot. I wazz better. But now…” he looked down at his servos, watching them clench into fists. He wasn’t a minibot anymore, he wasn’t even an Autobot. He was a techno-organic, a Predacon. He heard a low buzz and looked up in time to see a clenched fist hit him in the side of his faceplates, nearly knocking him backwards but Bumblebee grabbed him by the front plating and was shouting at him, wings buzzing angrily behind him.

“You glitch!! I had to bzzzt deal with everyone telling me that mini-bzzztotz were uzelezz and that I would never bzzzte an Elite Guard!! I thought, I zaw you and I bzzzt thought you would underztand but you hurt me!!” he shouted at him, feeling lubricant filling his optics but refused to let them fall. “You… You zhouldn’t have listened to them… they, don’t know what it’z like bzzt-eing uz… what, we uzed to be…” He slowly let him go, dropping down to the floor once more, depression once more worming its way into his spark. “I-I’m zorry, Wazp… I never zhoulda liztened to Longarm…” Now the tears fall even as he tried rubbing them away, buzzing softly. “You zhouldn’t have bzzzt zent to Trypticon… I wanted to bzzzt zave you, but I guezz I am worthlezz…”

“Bumblebee…” Had, had he always wanted to be his friend? Would anything have changed if he had tried to be nicer to him instead of trying to prove himself to Ironhide of all mechs? That mech was truly a waste of mass! He opened his mouthplates to tell him how he really felt, to hold him close and comfort him, to tell him he wasn’t worthless but froze when bee spoke up once more.

“I forgive you, Wazp-Wazpinator,” Bee said with a sniffle, rubbing the rest of the oily tears away. “I’m zorry you were a glitch… I’m zorry for getting you zuzpended and arrezted… do, do you forgive me?” The look of shock spoke more than words could, and Bee felt like his spark was breaking when he just continued to stare at him, not saying anything. Then, he was still mad at him and while Wasp forgave him, Waspinator hadn’t. “I z-zee… I don’t dezerve it-” he began as he moved to stand, whether to leave the cave or not he never got the chance as a servo grabbed his and pulled him down hard. With a small buzzing sound of confusion Bumblebee found himself lying flat on his backplates, wings trapped beneath him and looming over him was a loudly buzzing Waspinator. He made to push him off but his servos were tightly pinned to the floor and he straddled his waist. He watched as he lowered his faceplates down and for a moment he thought he was going to kill him, but he was in for the shock of his lifecycle when he nuzzled his neck cables once more, snaking his own glossia out to lick at them. Heat rushed throughout his frame and this time, it rush down towards his pelvic region as well as his faceplates.

“Wazzpinator forgivezz Bumbler,” he buzzed to him lowly, stretching his servos above his helm he held them both easily in one of his own and used the other to stroke at his side once more. He thought Bee was cute when he first saw him, but now like this, it was very appealing to his organic instincts and he felt energon rushing towards his pelvic region as well. “Zzweet Bumblebee… my Bee… MY Queen Bee…” he buzzed happily, lifting his faceplates from where it had been nuzzling his fur covered chassis and kissed him, barely giving him any warning as his glossia slid inside, eager to taste his sweetness.

Bumblebee let out a startled buzz, momentarily struggling against the larger organic but his programming was telling him to stop fighting and enjoy it. He gave in and was soon kissing him back, letting their glossia stroke and rub against one another, enjoying the warmth as it began building. He arched into the servo as it continued rubbing his side, shifting his extended bottom as much as he could but it was difficult and uncomfortable. Waspinator seemed to sense this as he released his servos, sliding them down his sides and lifted his stabilizers up to wrap high around his waist; feeling their heated frames pressed so intimately together, his wings buzzed louder than before and the urge to devour him was strong. He failed to realize his protective panel slid open and his spike was beginning to pressurize.

Bee buzzed softly as he clung to the other techno-organic, pressing their chassis together let him sit up enough for his wings to buzz but he wasn’t trying to get away. No, he wanted him like he never wanted another bot before. “Wazzzp,” he buzzed lowly, digits stroking where he could tightening his stabilizers around him tighter, he felt the spike rubbing against his panel and he knew what he wanted. What they both wanted. His optics seemed to brighten and emitting a small charge, sent it into the other mech above him. It wasn’t enough to hurt him, just stun him slightly so when Waspinator pulled back, trying to shake off the charge, he threw his weight forward and slammed him into the ground, roughly pinning him beneath him. His servos roughly pinned his shoulders to the ground, his wings spread out behind him as he was effectively pinned down. Looking down Bee smiled and lowered his faceplates to his, buzzing softly, seductively, aching against him he kissed him lightly, as though teasing him.

“I am, your Queen,” he spoke lowly, wings buzzing softly as he sat up he slid his servos down his frame, sharp tips tracing seams, he let out a warning buzz when he saw the green servos reach out to him. Obediently they lowered and he had to smile. He was the one calling the shots, he was the one giving the orders, he was the Queen of this soon-to-be hive. Satisfied he continued to let his servo slide down the twitching frame, heard his wings buzzing against the ground, and traced the length of the spike with a slender digit. He buzzed in delight as a thick drop of transfluid oozed from the tip and slowly wrapped his digits around and began to stroke it. When he felt Waspinator try to arch into his touch he gave another warning buzz and stopped.

Now what did he do?? Didn’t he want this?? “Why zztopping?” he asked, vocalizer straining, resisting the urge to touch the figure above him.

“A Queen doezn’t take orderz from anyone,” Bee whispered lowly and slowly began to stroke him once more. “You want me, I want you.” He gave the spike a squeeze as his servo slid up, causing more transfluid to be squeezed out. “But I give the orderz, you will obey them. If you don’t…” His servo stopped stroking but he squeezed the base hard enough to do some serious damage but his other servo came up and roughly pinned him back to the ground, a charge dancing over the plating of his chassis. “Underztand?”

Waspinator could only buzz quietly. He would be lying if he didn’t admit he was aroused by such a sight. He was so used to trying be a bigger bot than he claimed, proving he was much more than a minibot, but being ordered by “his queen” was causing his system to heat up in ways it never had before. Once more the servo began stroking his spike, and it took everything he had not to buck up into his grip. The other servo continued to caress his chassis, tracing the insignia gently. The touch was gently, loving, how long had he longed to experience something like this? And not just from anyone, but the one bot he had a crush on for an incredible long time. His servo came up, covering the yellow one on his chassis, and caught his bright blue gaze with his own purplish optics.

“You… don’t need to, apologize to me… I, am zzorry for blaming you, hurting you…” He squeezed his servo tightly, slowly reaching up with his other servo to stroke the side of his faceplates, wiping at the remains of his tears from earlier. “I live to zzerve you, Bumblebee… my queen…”

“Wazpinator…” The yellow organic buzzed softly as he nuzzled the servo as it continued stroking his cheek ridges, wings buzzing softly behind him. The urge to dominate him, to show him he was the one in charge, he was the ruler of this hive, was quieting down. It was still there, reminding him of his new directive, but hadn’t they hurt each other so much already? “My Wazpinator… my Wazp,” he buzzed softly, opening his optics he leaned down and kissed him softly, reaching down to gently hold his helm within his servos. There was no going back from this, but neither of them had anyone or any place to turn back to. All they had was each other.

Bee slowly pulled back, buzzing lowly. Leaning over the equally buzzing Wasp he allowed his bared valve to rub against the fully pressurized spike. The panel had slid open when they were kissing but he wanted to let him feel what he was doing to him. It felt so good, their fluids mingling together, his spike rubbing against the slick folds. He gasped when his Wasp bucked under him, pressing his spike harder against him, causing more of his lubricant to dribble free. Yellow servos gripped at the green mech beneath him, rubbing himself harder against the spike his backstrut arched and his wings fanned out, buzzing louder than before. He wanted him to take his seal, to mate with him, to claim and be claimed all at once but his logistics reminded him he wasn’t fully prepared. If he tried right now, it was going to hurt like the Pitt.

_‘No more hurting,’_ he said to himself and slowly stopped grinding against his soon-to-be lover, his wings now buzzing softly behind him and looked down at the highly aroused mech beneath him. His chassis rose and fell as he struggling to cycle air through his system, he could feel his fuel pumps racing beneath his servos, purple wings vibrated on the ground and his spike was liberally coated in a mix of both their fluids. It would be so easy to take what he wanted, but…

Waspinator swore that his spark felt ready to combust in his internal chamber. The feel of his queen’s valve pressing onto his spike, forcing it to bend up, his mass pressing into him, the lingering feel of his electrical charge on his plating, it would be so easy to grab him and pull him close but as his digits brushed over his slim hips they pulled back and he let out a frustrated buzz of longing, forcing his optics to online.

_‘Zzo clozze! Zzo clozze!’_ he buzzed to himself, looking down at his spike he let out a low keen at the mix of the silvery and pale pink fluids, the way it coated everything and began seeping into nearly invisible seams, making him want to seek more. If they continued with all the rubbing and grinding he was going to lose his control and overload but he wanted to overload in his queen, so claim and be claimed. “Beee… clozzzzee-!” he tried to buzz to him, sitting up in the process but he looked up and was surprised to see him standing on his own peds just out of reach, leaning back against the wall of the cave, facing him, one of his servos running through the fur along his chassis, stroking it as his wings flickered behind him, the other moving down to between his stabilizers, slender digits smearing the nearly translucent pink trails of lubricant, stroking the bared valve and moaning so enticingly. The sweet scent was stronger than before and it took him a klik or two to realize it had been coming from his valve the entire time, not his frame. The Autobot-turned-Decepticon-turned-organic somehow gathered enough processing power to get to his peds and crawled over to him, stopping when he was close enough and took the offered servo, letting the scent of the lubricant covered digits filled his olfactory sensors. So deliciously sweet, he had to have a taste!

Bumblebee didn’t know how he knew to do what he was doing, or acting like this. He felt his cheek ridges growing hot as Waspinator’s glossia snaked out, a lot longer that the average bot but he didn’t order him to stop as it wrapped around and between his digits, licking away the silvery pink drops clean off. It was so wet and flexible, the way it curled and slid over his servo, the tip sneaking into the thin gaps to tease and stimulate the wires and protoflesh. Bee gave a low moan/buzz, stroking his chassis harder, unintentionally scratching at his insignia hidden beneath all the fluff. His stabilizers spread wider and without being told, the slick glossia removed itself from his servo, green servos reaching out to stroke the slender limbs helm moving closer the same agile glossia slid up the inside of the warm plating, licking away the slight mess, working his way up until it teased the folds of his valve. Even though he was still expecting it it made him gasp and he reached down to grab at his shoulders tightly.

“W-Wazzzpp…” he moaned lowly, wings buzzing behind him he arched his backstrut and cried out as the glossia moved past his folds, licking up all the stray drops that threaten to fall. He was the one in charge, to be giving the orders, but there was no denying how good if felt as his future mate pleasured him, preparing him for more to come.

Waspinator had never seen anything so wonderful, so beautiful, the way his queen arched against the rocky structure, wings buzzing loudly, feeling his lubricant coating his glossia. His servos slid up and down the yellow and black stabilizers for a few kliks as he continued licking, rubbing himself against his queen’s other half of his frame. He buzzed happily when he realized it was covered in the same soft fur as his chassis but he paused when Bee let out another moan, curling his lower half into him.

_‘Zzenzzitive,’_ he realized and using his smaller set of servos raked his digits through the fur, listening to the way he moaned and buzzed, trying to call out his designation. He pushed his glossia in deeper, purposing stroking untouched cables, getting them to relax then did the same to the hidden sensor nodes, drawing another buzzing cry of pleasure from his future mate. Yes, more lubricant coated his glossia he swallowed it and pushed in deeper, eager to taste it all he paused when he reached a stiff seal. _‘Zzeal??’_ he made to pull back but a servo grabbed the back of his helm and held him in place, a deep whimper of longing reaching his audios.

“Pleazze Wazzp… bzzzt-reak my zzeal,” he panted softly, frame nearly vibrating in anticipation. “It provezz, I’m yourzz…” the servo gently caressed his helm and his faceplates, lovingly. “Pleazze.. my Wazzp…”

He didn’t have to be told twice, servos slowly sliding down his stabilizers he gripped them behind his joints and lifted them up and spread them even wider. Bee gave a questioning buzz, looking down at him but once more arched his backstrut as his glossia firmly rubbed and caressed the seal, taking his time he could feel the stiff seal becoming more malleable. He could taste lubricant building behind it, and he knew it wouldn’t be difficult to break it and bury his spike inside instead of his spike, but he didn’t want to hurt his queen. Pressing in closer he used his smaller set of servos to hold the stabilizers up, allowing him to rub his frame against the warm, furry bulk, curling his own end as much as he could, and once more slid his servos along his sides. The spider femme was attractive, but his queen may as well have been blessed by Primus himself and he was rewarded with another buzzing moan of pleasure, hips bucking in his grip, valve clutching at his glossia. He pressed his mouthplates to the supple folds and buzzed back, encouraging his queen to give into the pleasure, that he would never hurt him. A soft sob, frame tensing, then a sharp buzzing cry as the tight grip increased and the pressure behind the seal was too much to handle and it broke. Waspinator buzzed happily as he licked and swallowed the rush of fluids, moaning at the delicious and sweet taste coating his throat cables as it slid into his tanks.

Bumblebee struggled to cycle air, his chassis heaving up and down as he slowly came down from his blissful high, trembling in the secure yet loving grip of his mate. Mate. He didn’t know when he began to see or acknowledge Waspinator as his mate, but he did. He belonged to the techno-organic, and soon _he_ was going to belong to _him_.

“Mine,” he buzzed softly, trembling his hips shifted as he felt he glossia continue to lick and caress his internal system, brushing over nodes and taking his sweet time as it slid free but he didn’t stop them. Wasp continued to lick the mess from the inside of his stabilizers, once more probing the small gaps in his plating to tease at wires hidden underneath, buzzing quietly. Arching his frame as his valve was “cleaned” once more he watched as his mate slowly stood to his full height, still holding his stabilizers around his waist. Purple wings buzzed quietly, asking silently and his own black wings buzzed an answer back, sliding his servos from his shoulders to his chassis. Waspinator seemed to think it over but he leaned forward, nuzzling the yellow mech for a few kliks, rubbing his faceplates into the soft yellow and black fur he silently lowered them until he was kneeling on the floor of the cave, his wings pressed tightly to his backplates, servos holding him gently. “Mine,” Bee buzzed once more, gently pushing his mate to lie back he continued sitting up, making sure he was watching him as he slowly lifted himself up and guided his still pressurized spike into his slick valve as he lowered himself down.

Yes, this is what he wanted, what his new primitive directive was guiding him to. No words were said as their optics locked, Bumblebee let out a pleasing moan as the slick spike pushed its way into his valve, the folds parting easily to accept all of him, though this time all his sensor nodes were being caressed all at once. He curled his lower frame around the other organic as tightly as he could, feeling him do the same he began to move up and down, adjusting to the slight sting of having something bigger than his agile glossia inside but it was so good, too good. He didn’t realize he was beginning to move faster or harder, a mix of moans and buzzing sounds escaping his vocalizer, the tip of spike rubbing well past where his seal used to be and making the heat rapidly spread through every part of his new frame.

Waspinator watched as his queen eagerly rode his spike, watching the way his frame arched each time he came down, the way his wings fanned behind him, their lower organic halves curling even tighter around each other. His own instincts lurked in the back of his processor, that he should be devouring this creature, not mating with it and certainly not obeying it but he ignored it all. Later he was going to find a way to delete it but for now he held onto the curvy hips loosely, fighting the urge to pull them down. He felt so tight, wet, hot around his spike, the cables tightening around him just right, he even enjoyed the light scratches on his chassis from his servos but couldn’t help it and bucked up as he was hit with a light charge. His own electrical field fired back, just a small jolt, but the way his queen cried out in pleasure told him he had enjoyed it. They both had.

“Waazzzzpp…” Bee buzzed lowly, chassis heaving his wings buzzed behind him as he reached down to grip him tighter, arching into his servos as they tightened around his hips, grinding their hips together. Buzzing distorted his words but the green organic knew what he wanted. Without saying a word the two allowed their electrical fields to generate, yellow and green sparks caressing their frame before mingling, causing the two of them to cry out as their pleasure increased ten-folds. Bumblebee cried out and clung to his mate beneath him tightly, valve tightening even more around the spike as it rapidly thrust in and out, the wet sounds nearly drowning out the heated buzzing of their wings. Neither noticed as the charge began to build, now scorching the stone they were laying on. The heat was so intense, the two bucked and grinded against one another, servos roughly scratching at one another’s frames, wings buzzing rapidly in response. Neither of them realized just how close to an overload they were until it hit them. Waspinator suddenly sat up, clutching his mate tightly and drove his spike as deeply as he could into his queen, his sharp digits digging painfully into him, drawing energon as transfluid was being pumped into his tanks. Above him Bumblebee screamed out his name as his backstrut arched, wings fanned out to their full size as his valve closed tightly around the spike and a thick gush of lubricant filled his tank, mixing with the transfluid and coating the pulsating spike. Neither noticed as their EM field continued to mingle and dance over their plating, claiming each other even as they fell into a brief reboot.

Waspinator was the first to wake up and for a klik, he saw nothing but a heavy snow obscuring his vision. He could feel the lingering effect of the electrical charge coursing over his system, causing a completely reboot but he was also aware of a softly buzzing mass on his chassis. The snow cleared and he saw his queen was deep in recharge, servos wrapped tightly around him and faceplates laying right over his insignia, wings fluttering quietly against his backplates. He was disappointed that his spike had retracted into his housing and both their panels had slid close, but there was no hiding the amount of their combined fluids beneath them.

He didn’t know when it happened, but Bumble-bot was no longer his enemy, he was a techno-organic just like him, and what’s more he was his queen. Tightening his servos around him he opened up his primary directive and immediately deleted and rewrote them:

To obey his queen no matter the command.

To protect him and the hive above the cost of his own.

To destroy any who sought to harm him.

_‘I pledge myself to you, my Queen Bee. Now, and forever,’_ he swore and once more fell into recharge. When he awoke the new directives would be in place and he would assist his queen in any manner that he could.

* * *

Blackarachnia hissed as she followed the large organic she had been tracking. Seeing him hovering before a cave she narrowed her optics when she saw it transform and walk inside, wings buzzing softly. Finally! After what felt like vorns she had found and caught up to the annoying pest! Thanks to him her research had to be put on hold. Well, not entirely. She had tried again, this time having managed to catch and use the insane Blitzwing as he newest subject but something went wrong.

_‘Stupid malfunction, I shoulda known better than to use that glitch as a potential test subject!’_ she hissed angrily. She didn’t think his multiple personalities would have been an issue but it had and as a result, they had been separated into three separate organics. That would have been fine and astounding but one of them had been completely unstable and exploded once the transmutation was completely. In the process, it took out everything and in the blast she lost the other two. For all she knew they had been taken out during the blast but she didn’t need them anymore. Transforming she scuttled t the cave, intending on capturing the bee and continued with her work she failed to realize she was being hunted as well.

Waspinator made sure to keep silent as he watched the femme move, his wings pressed tightly against his frame it took all he had not to shoot at her with his electrical charge. No, after what she had done to his precious mate and the others, she deserved to suffer. He followed her, pausing and making sure she cold so much as sense him every time she stopped by when he felt she was getting too close to the cave he called home he took off in a flurry of wings, flying straight for her and with no warning, picked her up in his servos and flew off.

“Zzpider bot not hurt mate,” he buzzed angrily.

Blackarachnia spat out a long stream of curses and tried fighting the servos holding her but they were too strong and digging painfully into her organic frame. She arched herself, ready to shoot out webbing so she could pull herself free but screamed as his sharp stinger pierced her soft underbelly, injecting her with his powerful venom. She felt fear as her entire frame fell into stasis lock but she was still able to see and watched as he flew them far from the cave. After a while he slowed down and roughly dropped her. She landed painfully on numb stabilizers and realized two very important things: she could not transform at all and despite being in stasis lock she could feel everything.

“W-W-W-Wh-a-at ar-r-r-re yo-yo-ou do-in-in-in-ing??” she stuttered, trying to right herself up but it was no use, she was trapped.

Waspinator hovering in the air above her, glaring at her with hate filled optics. “Zzpider bot zzcared,” he buzzed calmly and watched her flinch.

“S-S-Sca-ar-r-red? O-O-O-Of yo-you?!” She let out a stuttering laugh but she struggled to fight off the stasis lock as he flew in closer, still hovering over her. She tried to get her internal mechanics to shoot her webbing and trap him long enough so she could run the Pitt away but nothing was responding. “I-I-I fo-found-d th-the Auto-to-bot! The ye-ye-yellow one-e!” He tilted his helm and she smiled as much as her mandibles would allow her. “He-Help me ge-get him, and I-I-I-I’ll chan-change you back-back-back!”

He didn’t have to think about it as he wordlessly transformed to her other frame, still looking down at her. Change him back? Why would he want to be changed back? He liked this techno-organic form. It was stronger, faster, taller, and what’s more he could better protect his queen like this. No, he could never betray him. He slowly lowered himself down, planting his peds on either side of the femme, leaning in close he watched as her optics widen in fear, fear of him. With no warning he lashed out with her servo and allowed his sharp digits to slash her soft underbelly open. The thin plating easily gave way as energon and oil spurted out of the lethal wound, wires sparking where they had been torn in half, broken circuitry laying open.

“Wazzpinator loyal to Queen. Will never let zzpider bot hurt Queen,” he buzzed lowly as he dug both servos into the open wound and slowly began tearing everything out, ignoring her terrified shrieks and pleas for him to stop. He did stop when his servo found the spark chamber and traced it roughly with the tips of his stained digits. “…”

“P-P-P-Pl-Pl-Plea-s-s-s-s-s-se-se-se-e-e… I-I-I’m… s-s-s-s-o-o-r-r-r-r-r-y-y-y…” she whispered weakly, feeling as her frame began to lose its warmth and color.

“… Not zzorry enough.” A quick thrust followed by a powerful yank and the femme felt as he ripped her spark clear out of her chassis then crushed it in his servo. He watched as she choked on her screams, frame spasm before falling still, her optics opened wide as her frame continued to lose color before turning to gunmetal gray. She was dead to both words and never would his mate have to worry about her coming after either of them.

Waspinator slowly stood, flickering the excess fluids from his servo he transformed and took to the air, heading back to the cave. Along the way he picked several flowers he knew his queen enjoyed and cleaned of his servo. Soon he was at the cave he transformed and walked in, heading for the back. Reaching the back he was welcomed to the sight of dozens of combs lining the back of the cave from the ground to the ceiling, evening beginning to line the walls. Many were sealed with faintly glowing liquid he knew was honey and oh so good to taste. He didn’t see his queen but he was greeted with buzzing from two loyal techno-organics who had been welcomed into their hive a short time ago.

“More tasty flowers? Bzzzt! What about us? Bzzzt!” Antagony buzzed, a crazed grin on his faceplates. A perfect reminder of the mech he used to be.

“Zzomething needzz to be cleaned up,” he said simply, looking up as a similar red frame crawled down the wall of the cave, looking at him inquisitively. “Zzhe will never threaten the hive.”

Inferno’s black as night wings twitched, optics narrowing in memory. “Ve vill clean it up,” he said simply, the two walked past him and heading for the entrance of the cave but paused and turned to him. “He iz preparing more.” With that the two transformed and flew out.

Waspinator didn’t bother to ask them what they meant and moved to the deepest part of the cave the two had begun digging since their arrival, a perfect place as these combs were smaller but packed more tightly together. Not as many as the combs holding the sweet honey but much more precious. He watched as his queen sealed one of the combs he was standing atop of, patting it lovingly when he lifted his helm and gave a buzz in greeting. Wasp watched as he flew towards him, landing and smiled as he took the flowers from him.

“You alwayz bring me prezentz,” he said softly and leaned up to kiss him softly then took one of the brightly colored flowers, licking the sweet nectar from the center.

Waspinator said nothing but nuzzled his lithe queen, wings buzzing softly he wrapped his servos around him, holding him close. Lifting his helm he watched as something moved in the tightly sealed combs behind the layer of wax. “They are growing zzo fazzt,” he buzzed softly.

Bee buzzed in agreement as he licked the nectar from another flower. “They want to meet their creator, but not yet.” It would be days before they were strong enough to merge and he wanted to make sure they had enough honey to feed their slowly growing hive. Bumblebee couldn’t remember a lot of his cycle before becoming a techno-organic, but what he did know was that none of this would have been possible without his mate. Turning to him he smiled and pulled him down for a kiss, buzzing in enjoyment as he forgot about the tasty flowers. “My Wazp…”

“My Queen Bee…” he buzzed back, holding him tightly. He would never let anyone hurt his mate and their growing hive.

**Author’s Notes:** And my very first techno-organic fic is done! Yes, I get the idea from JazztheTiger’s ‘Imma Bee’ comic strip but someone was already writing a wonderful fic from the comic, so I change some of it around and incorporated some of Jazz’s drawings of the two. I admit, this was tough and I wasn’t sure I was up to the task, but in the end I am satisfied with the results and I hope you are too.

Now, I originally was gonna have Prowl be turned into a techno-organic as well, maybe as a scarab beetle but I recently got my book [Transformers Animated: The Complete AllSpark Almanac] and reading through it showed two new techno-organics called Antagony and Inferno. There’s isn’t a lot in the way of their bio but I was thinking, what if Blackarachnia was so mad at losing Wasp then Bee, she used a new test subject. Why Blitzwing? Both the new bugs are so alike and Antagony’s face reminds me so much of Random I figured why not. Instead of wasps or hornets I thought maybe they were turned into flying black and red ants.

Okay, I am done, again I really hope you all enjoyed it and please leave me a review. Just to give you a hint, the next chapter will be a SafeguardxBumblebee pairing and I am actually looking forward to that one! Nites!


	8. SafeguardxBumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bumblebee is happily mated to Jetfire and Jetstorm, he’s now part of the Elite Guard, everything was perfect! So why are his mates keeping away from him or telling him what’s wrong?

**Author’s Notes:** Bumblebee is happily mated to Jetfire and Jetstorm, he’s now part of the Elite Guard, everything was perfect! So why are his mates keeping away from him or telling him what’s wrong?

Title: Heat Cycle

Pairing: SafeguardxBumblebee; JettwinsxBumblebee; ThrustxDirgexBumblebee

Requested: SparkySparkfire (FF)

_It wasn’t fair. For so long it had just been the two of them, two halves of the same spark and then the cute minibot with the door wings appeared, became their friend then something more. He fit in so well with them, but the two halves were the only ones to touch him. It wasn’t fair!_

**_He_ ** _wanted to be able to touch his brightly colored frame, to trail digits along the sensitive door wings, to feel his internal temperature rising until he was venting heavily. **He** wanted to pull him close kiss him, to push him to the ground and take what he always offered the other two, to hear him call out his designation. **He** wanted to experience what the two had been feeling since the moment they claimed him! He belonged to him! He was his too-!_

With a painful jolt Jetfire bolted upright from the berth, fuel pumps racing and his spark nearly vibrating in his chassis. It took him a few kliks to realize it was the same bad defrag he had been having for several cycles now but this time he was able to wake up from it. Other times he wasn’t so lucky. His servo came up to rub at his optics, his system cycling air through his system he paused when he felt a gentle nudge over the bond he shared with his twin.

_~Brother? You is being fine?~_ he asked quietly.

_~No. Is having same defrag,~_ he admitted, offlining his optics. Even if he lied his twin would know what was wrong, he had been having the same nightmares as well, something they even had them at the same time.

The blue seeker wished he was there with his yellow-orange twin but it didn’t stop him from reaching out, projecting gentle waves of love and concern. He smiled as he felt him send back a wave of affection and gratitude back _. ~We is being home in joor.~_

_~That is most good data being!~_ The sooner the two could get back to Cybertron, the sooner they could be with their adorable spark mate. The war against the Decepticons was over, their infamous warlord of a leader was in prison along with some of his most feared officers, but even so there were still some Decepticons making a mess. The twins had been selected for a mission to scout out the rumors that ‘Cons had been seen at a neutral planet quite a distance away. It was a small group of no more than five Elite guards, but their team leader wanted to be thorough and had the twins repeatedly scout the area from the skies to make certain there were no ‘Cons around. The mission ended up taking longer than they had hoped but they could no sign of any activity and were more than happy to be going back home.

_~I is comm link sweet Bee, telling him we is home soon,~_ Jetfire said happily as any trace of recharge immediately vanished.

_~I is thinking that being idea good,~_ Jetstorm admitted but paused for a few kliks before bringing up a topic that was sensitive for the both of them. _~Maybe, we is to be talking to somebot, about defrag?~_

_~No one is understanding, thinking we be freaks,~_ Jetfire said bitterly after a tense klik, a mix of sadness and anxiety souring his formerly happy mood. _~Not wanting to worry Bee.~_ Even with their little mate an official Elite Guard like themselves, many bots still didn’t trust them and continued to call them names when they didn’t think they were listening. This was their problem and they didn’t want him to get hurt.

The blue and gray seeker said nothing but sent out acceptance, love and concern to him and feeling it be sent back. At one point when the nightmares became too much they wanted to tell their spark mate about it, but there was nothing he could do so they chose to keep it a secret from him and everyone else. They loved their mate and would do anything to protect him, even from themselves.

* * *

A joor later the small ship landed on the landing docks of the Elite guard headquarters and the small team was called in to give a complete report of their findings. What was suppose to take a few breems at the most ended up taking a mega-cycle. Reports were still coming in that Decepticons were still in the area but they were either gone before the Elite Guards could pinpoint their location or they paid off bots to make false claims of their whereabouts in order to slip away. No one could agree on a singular answer but that didn’t stop them from voicing their opinion. Finally though everyone was dismissed and the twins were more than happy to transform and immediately fly to their home. They had tried to ping Bumblebee about their lateness, but his end of the link was silent. Fearing that he was ignoring them because they were getting home late they arrived to the balcony of their home and transformed, landing on silent peds.

_~Maybe we telling him of lateness, he be no mad?~_ Jetstorm asked as they unlocked the door leading inside, being quiet as glitchmice as they headed for their berthroom.

Jetfire wasn’t sure how to answer but stepping into the room he stopped and smiled at the sight that greeted them. _~I is thinking he not be mad of lateness,~_ he finally answered and pointed inside.

The bright yellow minibot was curled up in the middle of their shared berth, systems cycling air softly, doorings twitching behind him. It was clear he had tried waiting up for them before the need to recharge won over his processor. He didn’t stir or even realize his spark mates were home as they entered the room and quietly, carefully, climbed onto the berth to join him.

Bumblebee was enjoying his recharge immensely, just a little bit upset that the twins hadn’t come back and when he had tried pinging them it was met with a minor block, which usually meant they were busy with something. He heard from one of his friends that their team was giving their reports from their mission but from the sounds of a loud argument going on in the background he could tell it was going to be one of those cycles. He had wanted to have a meal waiting for them to welcome them home but at this rate the energon was going to go stale. Setting it back (after sipping at his own to quell his own low fuel indicator) he tried to stay awake, he really did, but his recharge ghosted upon him and before he knew it he was out. Granted the berth was cool with just him in it but his dreams were filled with memories of his mates. His door wings twitched as he remembered the way their digits stroked over his frame, tracing seams with a light touch that had him arching for more. His engine gave a quiet purr as he stretched out, those same digits now moving between gaps to stroke the exposed wires. Warm servos slid down his backplates, stroking his pelvic armor, digits curling around them they lifted his hips ever so slightly. He responded by lifting himself up onto his knees, moaning lowly as the digits pressed into the gaps revealed as well as stroking his very sensitive panel.

_‘Wish my recharge was always this good,’_ he thought to himself, feeling his system onlining, chasing away the remains of his recharge. But as he slowly woke up the intimate touching wasn’t fading away, it was still going on and he felt more digits brushing over his faceplates, stroking his cheek ridges and tracing his lips plates. The warm feelings blazing through the bonds made him smile before he even onlined his optics as he nuzzled the gentle servos and pushed back into the ones stroking over his hips.

“I is telling you he be recharging.”

“I is not one wanting hold Bee’s aft.”

“Don’t hear me complaining,” the yellow mech said, lifting himself onto his own servos he welcomed the kiss as warm digits continued stroking wires, reaching out to return the favor he trembled in delight as servos reached out to trace over his door wings. He wasn’t expecting them to be so eager to interface, no doubt they were tired but when he tried to suggest they until they had a decent recharge he quickly found himself trapped their frames, their gentle caresses turning into heated groping. Pulling back from the kiss he cried in pleasure, his panel sliding open to allow heated digits to stroke the wet folds of his valve.

“We is missing you much, sweet Bee,” Jetfire moaned against his lip plates, feeling the lubricant gather in his servo as he continued to tease the sensitive folds. “Very much being.”

“Brother is right, not same with spark mate no being close,” Jetstorm vented in his receiver from behind, one servo seeking all the hot spots he knew on the lithe bot as the other reached between his stabilizers, enjoying the feel of the lubricant coating his digits before pushing them in.

“M-Mechs… I…!” Both now had their digits thrusting gently into his valve, caressing what nodes they could reach, kissing him senseless, he threw his helm back and cried out as a slick glossia began tracing patterns on one of his door wings, making him shudder and keen in pleasure. He wanted something more than their digits inside him but when he tried voicing it he couldn’t. He vaguely heard something sliding back but before he could online his optics he felt his frame being moved and was now laying against a very warm chassis. He didn’t have to know that it was Jetfire he was leaning against even as he felt almost scorching hot servos sliding down his stabilizers, pulling them back. He did online them with a hiss as a slick glossia began lapping at his leaking valve and reached down to grip the blue helm that the glossia belonged to. “S-Storm!”

“Bee is tasting sweet,” he murmured as he continued lapping at the wet folds, swallowing the silvery pink drops. His servo, still slick with the lubricants, stroked his twin’s spike slowly, spreading the thick transfluid down his length, purposely squeezing it in the way he knew he enjoyed.

Bumblebee whimpered in pleasure, gripping the helm closer, trying not to hut him but his door wings tensed and he let out another keening cry of pleasure as another glossia licked at the false glass, digits pressing into the sensitive seams. “F-Fire…”

“Not forgetting me?” he asked with a bit of a smirk. Having looped one of his stabilizers over his own left one servo free, but the other continued to hold the other up, kneading the firm protoflesh it felt. It was his turn to moan as the lithe frame arched against him and the servo stroking his spike was moving faster. _~B-brother! Am wanting spark mate!~_

_~Am wanting, also,~_ he admitted even as he gave one last lick he pulled back and guided the pale orange and light gray spike into their spark mate. He groaned and roughly began stroking his own as he watched the way it slid past the wet folds, the way it closed around him and the way the lubricant glistened as he pulled out. He continued to watch for several kliks, passing the image back to his twin before stopping the minibot to press in close. _~Ours.~_

_~Ours.~_ Feeling the other spike push it made the orange jet hiss, rubbing against his own as it slid in, the valve feeling that much tighter but it was such a wonderful feeling. They waited as they both were completely sheathed inside, listening to the way their spark mate whimpered at being stretched, clinging to them tightly. Only until he relaxed did they move, one pulling out then thrusting in so the other spike could pull out. This way all the sensitive nodes could be caressed and stroked, making their adorable minibot whimper in pleasure but the longer they continued the stronger the desire came to them. They wanted to merge into their gestalt form, to press the minibot onto his chassis and frag him hard and fast, to feel the tightness of his valve encompassing their large spike-

A sharp cry brought the out of their fevered dream, both having not realized they were now thrusting into their spark mate harder and faster than before, both at once. Bee was crying out with each rough thrust, clinging to each of their servos, panting in an effort to cool down his overheated systems. He was so close, all of his nodes were now so sensitive it was starting to hurt, he tried to warn them that he wasn’t going to last, that he needed to overload but they seemed to know it as they released his servos and embraced him tightly, whispered for him to overload into his receivers. With a loud cry he did, crying out their designations he shuddered as his overload racked his frame, causing him to tremble but it only grew as he felt their spikes swell then release their coding deep inside him, causing him to experience another overload a bit less intense than the first.

The twins panted in an effort to cool down their own systems, fans humming loudly as Jetstorm helped Bumblebee by pulling him free from Jetfire’s spike, then pulling out as he laid him on the berth. Neither of them said anything as they laid on their sides, reaching out to stroke trembling wings, caressing the still heated frame. They had never lost control like that before and it scared them. They locked optics over the horned yellow helm, concern, worriment, and even fear flickered against their bond.

_~Brother… that is happening never. Not during heat cycle either.~_

_~I knows. I is being afraid, not wanting hurt spark mate.~_

_~No me.~_ the last thing they ever wanted to do was hurt their sweet minibot, but they decided not to tell him and instead curled around him. Within a few kliks, they were deep into recharge. However Bumblebee was still awake even as he lay between them, clinging to them just as tightly as they clung to him. There was no denying the ‘facing was good, it always was, but the moment they began to move harder and faster, so perfectly in sync, it was like they weren’t in control. Sure it was fragging hot, but they didn’t give him any warning, didn’t prepare him, and he swore for a klik their spikes swelled even bigger! If something was wrong they would have told him… would they have?

_‘I’ll ask in the morning,’_ he thought and settled into recharge as well. At least his spark mates were back so he had nothing else to worry about.

* * *

Bumblebee was determined, a quick learner, reckless at times, was not afraid of anything that stood in his way and he was always up for a mission. It was what made him an excellent scout and Elite Guard material. But trying to get data from his bond mates… that task may as well been impossible. They tried denying that nothing was wrong then they used sudden comms from Sentinel Prime as an excuse to suddenly leave, or almost any excuse. It was driving Bee to glitch so he went to the only other bot who knew the twins so well.

“Why don’t you try asking ‘em,” Jazz suggested as the bartender set their drinks before them.

“Repeatedly! But I know something’s wrong and they won’t tell me and I want to help but how can I help them if they won’t tell me what’s wrong!?” he argued, narrowing his optics as he glared at the drink before him. He enjoyed coming to Maccadam's Old Oil House and had even brought his bond mates here a few times. He never knew Jazz used to bring them here and being seekers the high grade didn’t get them overcharged as quickly as others (himself included). That had been a very interesting trip back home that lead to a motherboard of an ache in both processor and frame the following cycle.

“Look Bee, I can’t tell ya what to do ‘cuz this is between the three of you.”

“Some advice,” he mumbled, door wings twitching in a clear sign of frustration.

“Just sayin’ is all.” Sipping at his drink he could tell the yellow mech was not happy and vented quietly. He didn’t want to say anything but he had noticed something strange about the twins but unless they came and asked for help, his servos were tied. “Where are they anyway?”

“Big chin commed them about some mission.” He gave his drink a good hard stare before picking it up and drinking it slowly. It was hard not to just drink it fast but Jazz had offered to pay for the drinks and being in a foul mood he had accepted, but he wasn’t going to get overcharged tonight. He had a bad habit and saying the wrong things at the wrong time and it grew work when he had too much high grade.

“And you’re not with them ‘cuz…?”

“Cuz last time he called all three of us in I got in a shouting match with him.” Yes, Sentinel was a Prime. Yes, he was he commanding officer of the Elite Guards. Yes, he reported directly to him. But did that mean he had to stand there and take every little insult thrown at him? To be quiet when he starting acting way too big for his pistons? To listen as he insulted his old team and treat them like they were lower than scrap? Frag no! He frowned as he downed the remainder of his drink, one of his door wings giving a sharp hitch. “Still don’t get why the High Council appointed him a Prime.”

“We don’t question anything they do or say, best remember that,” the Cyber Ninja warned him but the mech ignored him. Waving the bartender down he ordered some more drinks.

* * *

Sentinel Prime was not having a good cycle. But then again, all his cycles seemed to be going badly even since that upstart was inducted into the ranks of the Elite Guard. He was Ultra Magnus’ favorite even though he protested that he didn’t receive any special treatment but that was slag. If he said there were no more Decepticons around, then there were no more! And yet there, in a stacked pile of data pads, were reports from numerous scouts and civilians alike that they had seen a mech baring the purple insignia for all to see. He looked up at the quiet forms of Jetstorm and Jetfire who had been standing at attention since they entered his office, never saying a word or asking what they were called for until he was good and ready. ‘At least these two still respect me,’ he thought gruffly. “Alright you two, I got a mission and I want this taken care of as of the previous solar cycle.”

“Yes, Sentinel Prime, sir!”

That was more like it. Taking a data pad from the top of the stack he tossed it to them. “There’s been sighting of a Decepticon and our scouts, while not able to catch him, were able to get a good image of him,” he said, getting up from his seat to pace over to the window that overlooked Cybertron.

Jetfire, who had caught he data pad turned it on to see the image of a dark/dirty yellow brown color with purple accents and a black helm. On his chassis was the insignia that identified him as an enemy. “’Designation: Swindle. A black-market arms dealer that had made numerous purchases/trades with an unknown amount of alien racesextensively with many alien races who then sells the technology to interstellar warlords, bounty hunters, space pirates, and anyone who is interested.’ He is Decepticon, Sentinel Prime, sir?”

“You would think since he wears the slagging symbol, but he’s just as likely to steal their own tech and sell it to us if he thought we were interested. Rumor even has it he’d to sell his own motherboard to the highest bidder.”

“That is, not good to be hearing,” Jetstorm said with a frown as he took the data pad from his servos. “What is he be doing?”

“Beats me, but it can’t be anything good. Our scouts have also reported seeing him with two seekers with similar framework to Starscream.” The twins tensed upon hearing that certain designation. They knew who he was, a dangerous mech who was just as dangerous and was above using innocents to gain the upper hand in a fight.

“But, is not Starscream being gone?”

“He’s suppose to but that’s why I call you two in.” he finally turned from the window and slowly made his way back to his desk where he leaned on his servos. “I want you two to locate Swindle and let me know as soon as you have him so I can finally lock him in the brig.”

“Yes, Sentinel Prime, sir!” They saluted and were prepared to leave with the data pad in servo when he called out to them once more.

“And that that bumbler with you while you’re at it,” he said as he settled on his seat, grabbing the next data pad on top of the stack but he looked up after a few kliks and narrowed his optics as the two mechs still standing in his office. “Well?”

“Um, we is wanting to know, why bring Bumblebee?” Jetstorm asked quietly.

“… Are you question my orders, soldier?”

“No, Sentinel Prime, sir! But, brother and I can be finding Decepticon faster,” Jetfire brought up. The fact was Bumblebee was pretty fast and all their training and simulators showed he was getting better each time, but they had hoped this time spent away from him would curb the dark thoughts about dominating him.

“Look, I don’t have time to explain myself. Just get out there, bring in that swindler, and take that bumbler with you.”

“But-”

“Now!! That’s an order!!”

Flinching the two jets quickly saluted their commanding officer and left. They were silent as they flew back to their house but neither was happy about it. A mission was great, even something mundane as a scouting one like this but they wanted to take some time away from their bonded. They kept their end of the bond with the minibot tightly shielded but their own was passing feelings of anxiety back and forth.

_~Brother? What is we doing?~_

_~Not knowing, brother. But is not denying orders of Sentinel Prime.~_

_~No… he is being commanding officer. And being Prime.~_ They had no choice and flew lower once they saw their building coming closer. But their scanners picked up a very familiar energy signature and as they locked on they were not happy with what they were seeing. Bumblebee was laughing at something Jazz said, both grinning as they walked up to the building, having a good time. The white mech then made a wild gestured that caused the minibot to nearly double over in laughter, nearly falling over but the Cyber Ninja held him up. To anyone else it would have seen like nothing out of the ordinary, two friends merely enjoying themselves and laughing about some comical story, but the twos saw another mech touching their spark mate, someone they respected and looked up to having no business holding onto the mech they had chosen as their bonded. With no warning they flew in low, transforming and landing at the same time the duo reached the entrance to their building.

Bumblebee tried to reset his vocalizer free of static, having not remember a time he had laughed so hard he nearly blew out the circuits. He patted the mech’s servo were it was holding his servo. “Oh mech, warn me next time you tell that story!” he managed to say and blinked at he saw the frames of his bond mates standing before him. “Oh hey, how’d it-” With no warning the two reached out and with more force that was necessary, yanked him from the equally stunned mech and held him tightly between them, servos gripping at him possessively and glaring at their cyber-ninjitsu mentor. “-go…?”

“You is not touching bonded!!” Jetfire said angrily, feeling his frame heating up but not caring as his pieced the taller mech with a glare that could melt glass.

Pale blue optics shuttered beneath the visor as Jazz continued to stand there, very confused. “… say what now?”

“You is hearing brother!! Bee is being our spark mate, not yours!!” Jetstorm seethed, hissing angrily behind clenched denta.

Bumblebee blinked and tried to push himself free but the two jets just tightened their grip on him even more. “W-What are you two—talking about?!” he demanded but they ignored him. He tried pushing only to wince as he felt one of his door wings being bent at a very uncomfortable angle. “Ow! Hey my wing-!”

“Hey now, mechs, Bee is cool and all that but I don’t want him like that!”

“We is seeing you now!! You is touching him!!”

“Yeah ‘cuz I didn’t want him to fall over laughin’.”

“Mechs-”

“Sweet Bee is ours! Not yours!”

“My wing-”

“I just said I didn’t want him like that!”

“What is being wrong with that?!”

“For the love of, WILL YOU TWO GLITCHES LET GO?!?!” Bumblebee shouted as loud as he could, startling the jettwins from loosening their grip enough so he could shove the both of them away from him. He was venting heavily and reached behind him to his backstrut. One of his door wings was bent at an unnatural angle and when he tried moving it it activated his pain sensors. He groaned in pain, biting back the urge to curse but quickly slapped the servos away and glared at his mates. “What the frag is your error?! I think you damaged my door wing!!”

“W-We is sorry, not meaning to hurt,” Jetfire said and made to touch the wing but the minibot jerked away, hissing as the movement jerked his wing. “Bumble-”

“No. I don’t wanna hear it.” He glared at them both with nothing but pure fury in his optics. “I don’t wanna hear it from either of you.” Without saying anything to Jazz he headed into the building, the doors opening and closing. The Cybertroniums that had heard the argument continued to stare as they murmured to one another about what they heard, wondering the truth behind the heated words.

Jazz vented softly, rubbing the back of his helm. The twins looked like younglings that had just been badly scolded by their creator and he couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for them. “Listen up, I like Bumblebee but as a friend. I was never interested in him like that and I never will be,” he said firmly. “He came to me for some advice, that’s it.”

“Jazz sir, we… we is sorry,” Jetstorm said quietly, his visor dim. “We is, not wanting hurt you, you is friend.”

“We is sorry much,” Jetfire said, nodding to him. “You… is being mad… a-at us?”

“… Nah mechs, I’m not mad. But I know who is.” He glanced up in the direction their home was located and hoped the three of them could work it out.

* * *

Bumblebee was so mad, he had never been so embarrassed and in public no less! They actually thought Jazz was hitting on him? Jazz was a cool mech but he reminded him too much of Prowl! And he had already agreed to be their spark mates, they had even bonded for Primus’ sake! He looked at the mirror as he tried rotating his wing. The self-repair system was working on the torn wires and while it wasn’t serious it was really painful. He vented heavily as he tried to hold the wing steady. It would be at least a megacycle before if not sooner for it to finish repairs. He paused when he heard the door to their home open followed by ped steps. He ignored the hesitant knocking on the door that was soon followed by it opening. He glanced in the reflection but continued to ignore the two mechs.

“Bumblebee… we is wanting, we is sorry much for hurting you,” Jetstorm said. The minibot said nothing and he nudged his twin.

“Yes, brother being right. We never hurting you, and we is saying sorries to Jazz sir,” he said, looking hopeful but the yellow mech continued to ignore them. “Bumblebee? Wing, hurts much?”

“What the frag do you think?” he snapped, wincing as his good wing gave a harsh flick (and jarring his injured wing) which was pretty much the equivalence of flipping them off and a clear sign that he was still mad at them. He could tell they were struggling to say something but instead of waiting he turned to face them, servos crossed over his chassis. “Look, I went to Jazz ‘cuz I needed some advice and he invited me to get some oil at Maccadam’s. Something has been going up with you two and you aren’t telling me anything so I thought he knew something. You know what he told me?” They wordlessly shook their helms. “He said I should talk to you two. I told him I tried but he kept telling me to try harder and I believed him. But then you two had to act like-like total glitches out there, where every mech and their creator could hear and see what was happening!” He took a moment to calm down, venting heavily he dropped his servos and looked at them pleadingly.

“Look, I know something’s wrong but you two aren’t saying what. I’m your bonded, your spark mate. We’re suppose to help each other.” Hesitantly he moved forward and took their servos in his own, squeezing them tightly. “Just tell me what’s wrong and whatever it is, I won’t get mad. I’ll help you, whatever it is. I love you both.”

It would be so easy to tell them, to get this heavy mass off their chassis, their sparks, to admit they were terrified of their gestalt form taking over and hurting him and they would be powerless to stop him. But they didn’t and looked away. Heir winced as their sparks gave a painful twinge, the backlash from the pain their spark mate was feeling. Their servos slid free from his grip and they didn’t try to stop them as he pushed past them roughly, slamming the door to their wash rack closed and locking it behind him. They had hurt him with saying anything and they hated it. And now they were expected to go on a mission and work together to try and bring in an enemy mech?

It was impossible.

No one was able to recharge peacefully that cycle. They never had a chance to tell the minibot of their mission and with his door wing still mending, they decided to leave the following solar cycle. Sentinel had not been happy but didn’t push them for answers but expressed he wanted the Decepticon and his seekers dealt with. The twins who were used to spending much of their early vorns together in the same berth, admitted that their berth now felt cold and empty. Bee refused to even recharge in the same room and instead recharged on the couch in the main room of their home. He didn’t not look comfortable as he lay on his side, one of his wings touching the floor.

Jetstorm wanted to wake him up or carry him to their berth, to tell him what was going on but the lingering dark thoughts were just below the surface, waiting for a chance to merge and attack.

“Want?” Jetfire offered him a mix of energon and oil to the blue and gray mech, having drank his own just kliks earlier. He nodded his thanks as the orange and white mech moved to the other side of the narrow couch, kneeling down to the recharging mech’s level. “I is not seeing Bumblebee being upset to us.”

“Not me, too. But… Sentinel Prime sir, is wanting us do mission.” Without waiting for a response he leaned over and gently shook the shoulder joint. “Bumblebee? You is not recharging?”

The wings slowly began to move, flapping gently the frame shifted and he turned his helm away from the stiff back cushions of the couch he had been facing. His optics were still dim as he opened them slightly. “What?” he asked quietly but it didn’t have his usual warmth and his frame was tensed even as Jetstorm slowly removed his servo.

“Sentinel Prime sir, is wanting us go on mission,” Jetfire said and paused as he turned to look at him. “We is finding Decepticon and is to be bringing him in.”

“A mission?” He blinked, wishing his processor would boot up faster but he turned and pushed himself up so he was sitting, ignoring the servos as they offered to help but he did take the data pad without murmuring any thanks. Opening the file he skimmed in as his wings arched up and down, side to side. It no longer hurt and hopefully it wouldn’t affect his flying. Subspacing the data pad he stood. “Let’s go.”

“You is wanting energon or oil?” Jetfire offered but with a firm no they watched as he walked out of their home, not even looking behind to see if they were following him. The mech bit down on his lower lip component, feeling his spark aching painfully. “Bee is upset being.”

“We is needing to be making up to him,” Jetstorm said, subspacing some emergency rations of energon and giving some for his twin to subspace as well. This felt like it was going to be a long cycle as they hurried out to meet up with their still upset spark mate.

The last sighting of Swindle was on a tiny planet that was unable to sustain any form of life, and it was surrounded by an asteroid field. The plan was for the three mechs to take a shuttle as close as possible then transform and fly the remaining difference to said planet. The reason being was they would waste too much fuel to take off straight from Cybertron and the shuttle was too large to safely maneuver through the colliding rocks. Through the trip they tried talking with the yellow minibot, apologizing but he purposely ignored them even sat as far away from them as possible. They would ask questions and he would give short, curt answers that they eventually gave up. The shuttle arrived and floated just beyond the asteroid field.

“This is as far as I can take you all,” the shuttle said, a loud click heard as he unlocked the door leading to the air lock. “Be careful out there, the scientists tried to predict a pattern but not everything follows a set routine.”

“Thanks, we’ll comm you if we get him,” Bumblebee said, entering the airlock before the twins and closed the door. He waited for the bay doors to open then transformed and activated his thrusters. His door wings opened up and soon he was flying into the field, nimbly dodging the rocks.

“He’s good, looks like he’s been a seeker all his life cycle.”

“Yes… he be practicing much.” Thanking the mech the twins entered the airlock and soon they were followed after the minibot, nimbly dodging the floating rocks, using their thrusters when needed. It didn’t take them long to land on the planet and it was completely barren. The ground was so hard packed it was badly cracked, outcropping of rocky formations darting the landscape, some of them looking very jagged and sharp enough to pierce their frames. The twins didn’t land but as soon as Bee did he retracted his wings and began driving.

_::I’m gonna scout around, you two cover the air,::_ he commed them, wincing as the rough terrain jarred his suspension. _‘I’m gonna need a serious alignment when I’m done.’_

_::Bee, we is thinking maybe is not good idea,::_ one of the twins commed gently. _::Mission is saying there is being seekers.::_

_::I read the data pad, Jetfire,::_ he snapped and increased his speed. _::You two deal with the seekers, I’ll take care of Swindle.::_

_::But-::_ But he quickly shut up his comm link. Primus! First they were acting all weird and not saying what was wrong. Then they go accusing Jazz of all mechs of trying to steal him away. And they still refused to tell him what was going on! And why in the Pitt were they treating him like he was newly formed sparkling? He was an Elite Guard, slag it! “I can take care of myself!” he growled, engine revving to his mood as he raced along the terrain, ignoring the jostling and jarring as his axles and suspension took the abuse.

He searched the small planet but there was no sign of Swindle. He had found tracks but he grew upset when he realized that after following the tracks for almost a whole joor they were his own. He wanted to stomp his ped and cursed as loudly as he could but even with no other bot around he wasn’t going to throw a tantrum like a spoilt youngling who wasn’t getting his way. But that brought a question to his processor: what was Swindle doing here to begin with? There was nothing he could steal and this planet was completely void of any life form, organic or otherwise.

_‘Maybe I missed something in the report?’_ Transforming he pulled out the data pad and opened the file. He read over that the ‘Cons did business with a lot of different clientele, not just their planet. There was even a list of his known business associates but none of them even lived this far out. _‘Wait, Swindle is a ‘Con’s con but he’s not glitched. If he was here, then it had to have been a meet and greet. This is where he comes to do business deals.’_ That made sense, he would want neutral ground and the asteroid field made a perfect barrier. But maybe he missed something while driving. He wanted to open the comm to the twins to see if they saw anything but held back. No, he could fly, he could search himself! Giving a hard vent he put the data pad back in his subspace but froze when he heard peds stepping on the crumbling ground behind him. He whirled, servos transforming into his trusty stingers but there was nothing there.

“Who’s out there?” he demanded loudly, adjusting his optics to scan far and wide but there was nothing, just him. He refused to relax as he carefully began scouting around, using his headlights to look into small caves made by the jagged rocks, but there was no sign of anyone except himself. He didn’t like it and despite how made he was he opened his comm link. _::Jetstorm, Jetfire, come in.::_

_::We is here, Bumblebee. You is finding Decepticon Swindle?::_

_::No, but I don’t think we’re alone. We should meet-::_ He cried out in pain as a piercing sharp burst of static filled his audios, he clutched at his helm with his stingers. He vaguely heard twin shouts of pain over the link before it cut off. It didn’t last long but he tried reaching out once more. _::Jetstorm? Jetfire? You two alright::_ No answer. _::Come in, over.::_ Nothing. _::Look, if you’re still mad at me stop it! I’m still ticked off at you two!::_ Just static and he could feel worry filling his spark, making it vibrate painfully fast in his chassis. _::… mechs?::_

The heavy sound of peds hitting the ground was heard and he whirled only to find himself staring up at a mech with a seeker’s frame, tall with thrusters at his peds, a small mid-section, sleek chassis with wings arched high on his backstrut. He could have sworn it was Starscream himself except his color was a very dark red and his helm ended at a pointed tip. He tensed and held his stingers up threatening, glaring at him with narrowed optics. “… don’t tell me, another of Starscream’s clones?” The mech narrowed his optics as he scoffed, vents pushing the air out harshly.

“I could be a better Starscream than he could ever be but someone took too long to have me formatted!!” he snapped angrily, wing tips twitching angrily. His optics looked over the sparking stingers of his opponent and he let out an angry growl. “Why can’t my servos do that?! All I have are these pathetic guns!! And your color is so much brighter than mine—it’s not fair!!”

_‘What the scrap is this mech’s problem?’_ Bumblebee thought, slowly back up as the seeker continued to complain about everything, he didn’t realize someone was behind him until servos reached out to roughly grab him from behind. He immediately tried fighting back, kicking at eh stabilizers behind him but the mech roughly pinned him to the ground and slammed his stingers into the ground. Turning he could tell this mech was just like the other one except he was a dark navy blue and his wings were a dull orange. He was a darker color combination than his mates who he secretly wished were here with him right now. “G-Get off me, you slagger!!” he growled.

“Shut up, Autobot,” he growled deeply and glared at his “brother”. “Get over here now, Thrust!”

“Who put you in charge, Dirge?!” he snapped but did so, roughly digging his clawed didn’t into the armor just behind the stingers, disrupting the circuits in charge of producing the electrical charge, causing them to die out. “Swindle should put me in charge but he doesn’t!! It’s not fair!!”

“Shut your mouth plates before I shut them for you!!” the blue seeker snapped. He was getting annoyed with the bright wings twitching he straddled the kicking stabilizers, pinning them down and roughly grabbed the wings. He smirked as their captive let out a cry of pain and pulled them harder, listening to him yelp. “Looks like we caught an Autobot, kinda small though.”

“I’m an Elite Guard not get off!!” Bee shouted as loudly as he could, struggling to try and pull free but they sued their heavier mass to push him into the ground. He felt his stingers retract, letting his servos out but it was no use. He gave another hard jerk only to freeze as his aft hit something metal and slightly curved.

“You should have said you wanted something more,” the one called Dirge smirked, grapping his hips, claws scratching groove into the metal, and lifted his aft up. He dug his claws into a stabilizer when it tried kicking back, piercing the protoform and drawing energon. “You’re an Elite Guard? I don’t believe it,” he scoffed.

“Like I care what you glitches think.” He tried coming the twins or anybot else for that matter but all he was getting back was static. He tried not to let his uncertainly show as Dirge forced himself between his stabilizers and Thrust had his servos pinned harshly under his knee joints. He cringed as he felt their servos running over his frame and door wings, scratching his armor and creating shallow cuts along his protoform. “W-Where’s Swin-ndle?”

“Why? Do you know him? Swindle gets to go out and meet interesting mechs and I don’t. Everyone has better stuff than me, also!” he griped but his lip plates turned into a smirk as a servo roughly gripped Bumblebee’s chin, forcing him to lift his helm up and shoved a digit inside, causing him to open his mouth plates and keep it open.

“Back off!!” the other seeker snarled angrily, digging his claws into the hips, scratching the armor even deeper as he began grinding their interface panels together, causing the metal to shriek loudly. “I saw him first so I get him!!”

“You get everything!!” The Autobot was cute, and there was no telling how long it would be before their “boss” came back, so why waste a perfect opportunity. “Look Thrust, I don’t like you, you don’t like me-”

“No slag.”

“-but let’s just enjoy this mech before Swindle comes back. And you get the part that doesn’t have denta,” he mumbled as he forced the mouth plates open as wide as they could, reaching down to undo the latches of his cod piece to allow his spike to pressurize. “Bite me and I’ll make you regret it,” he warned.

Bee struggled to pull himself free, trying to bite down on the digit he never heard the other mech’s cod piece pulling back, never felt him force his panel open, never knew he had shoved his spike into his unprepared valve until it was too late. He couldn’t help it as he cried out in pain only for it to be roughly cut short as another spike forced itself way into his mouth plates. He couldn’t gag like he’d seen organics do, but it didn’t stop him from trying to pull away from them. Not heeding the warning he was prepared to bite down as hard as he could but cried out in a mix of pain/pleasure as a servo roughly grabbed the back of his helm, a claw angrily scratching one of his small sensory horns.

“Suck,” the dark red seeker purred as he began thrusting. Finally, something was going his way! But he wanted to slam his spike into the bot’s valve first. Slagging Thrust had to get to him first!

Thrust was living up to his designation as he thrust hard and deep, enjoying the tight, wet heat of the valve as he fragged the helpless bot. Swindle was not going to happy he was missing out on an opportunity but he didn’t care, this was his captive and if he wanted to frag him, he was going to frag him! He dragged a servo up a stabilizer, scratching deeply he pulled it up and it allowed him to thrust in deeper, forcing a muffle and louder cry of pain. “Mine!” he snarled and reached down to grab a door wing and began pulling them, forcing him to buck into him harder. “Mine!!”

The yellow mech had giving up on trying to be brave, gave up on being angry at the jettwins, and he didn’t care why they were hiding something from him he just wanted these two to stop. Everything was hurting so much, he was sure his valve was tearing and his stabilizer was covering in so much energon, he was forced to swallow the transfluid from the other spike as it filled his oral cavity and his tanks churned at eh taste. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want them, he wanted the jettwins! he wanted his bonded mates! His spark was vibrating so hard in his chassis he was afraid it was going to burst free.

_‘F-Fire… St-Storm… ‘m sorr’… hel.. help me…’_ he silently begged, desperate to reach out to them. Bee was lost in a world of pain and the two seeker knock-offs were too busy enjoying their new toy, they failed to hear the rumble of a large jet as it streaked through the sky, never heard it transform as it landed hard enough to cause a small crater nor as it marched forward, not until two massive servos reached out and dug his digits into their wings, crumbling the metal as though they were made of aluminum. They both shrieked in pain, servos scrambling to try and remove the crushing grip but it was no use as they were forcefully lifted off and away from the smaller mech, making him cry out as the spikes were roughly pulled out.

“Not hurting our spark mate!!” Safeguard bellowed and brutally slammed the two seekers together, smashing their faceplates and severely damaging their processors forcing them to crashed and fall into immediately stasis. Angrily they turned and hurled the seekers away, watching them crashed into the distance and looked down to see that the wings they had grabbed had been torn off. It stated their anger just a bit but they turned their attention to the minibot. To their much loved spark mate. “Bum-ble… bee…”

Bee was in too much pain, his servos were badly damaged, his was leaking so much, he couldn’t help but flinch as he felt servos touch him. “N-No… please, d-don’t…” he begged, hating himself for sounding weak but the servos wordlessly lifted him up and cradled him against a broad chassis. He felt his spark give a pulse and was surprised as the spark beneath the chassis was leading against answered his back. He forced his optics open and online to see the plating was two-toned in very familiar colors. “… s-safe… safe… guard…?”

“Our spark mate. Our bonded,” he-they rumbled, taking him a short distance away they gently set the minibot down on a series of flat rocks that was smooth on top instead of jagged. They watched as he hissed but they knelt before him and gently rubbed blunt digits over the scratches, trying to sooth him. they silently spread the stabilizers, ignoring the weak attempts to keep them closed and frowned behind their visor at the damage. Bee’s valve was swollen and it was leaking a combination of his sweet lubricant, that ‘Con’s foul transfluid, and energon. Their bonded had been hurt, and they needed to tend to him. “Our sweet Bee.” they leaned forward and licked at the swollen lips, lifting his aft up so he was cradled and kept him from pulling away.

The yellow scout tried to tell him-them-it no, to comm for help but his vents stuttered as he struggled to cycle air, his spark racing painfully ins his chassis. His damaged digits tried to gain some sort of leverage on his perch but his servos were so badly damaged the best he could do was wiggle them slightly. “M-mechs-aah!-wait, pleassse!” he hissed softly. He was vaguely aware that he was blushing, his cheek plates heating up as the slick glossia continued licking the swollen folds of his valve then pushing in to sooth the enflamed nodes, tenderly sucking at the folds along the way. It was so good, it reminded me of the times his lovers took turns doing this to him; one would lick and play with his valve while the other took care of his spike but his cod piece refused to unlatch. He didn’t care as he laid back and arched his frame, tilting his helm back as he continued to voice his pleasure, flinching time to time when pain made itself know. He whimpered as a servo gently stroked his injured stabilizer, tracing the angry marks lovingly he cried out louder as the glossia left his valve and licked as some of the marks. It stung but the pain was fading as he continued to lick them clean. It wasn’t just those marks, he leaned over and kissed and caressed the deep grooves in his armor plating, growling softly in anger but he knew it wasn’t at him but at the damage done. He lifted his damaged servos, cradling the two-toned helm he gasped softly as the large servos carefully held them and nuzzled them with such tender loving care. It was enough to make him cry as he pulled him down and kissed him.

His kiss tasted like energon and lubricant, something that might have repulsed him considering what happened and what he had been doing but it was still soothing and gently; the gestalt was moving slowly, taking it easy and waiting for Bee to let them know he wanted more instead of taking. They slid a orange tinted servo down his backstrut, holding his aft and pressed his cod piece into the bared valve. They froze when their mate gasped, breaking the kiss to whimper but when they made to pull back he clung to them tightly.

“Don’t… Don’t let go!” Bee gasped, wrapping his stabilizers around his own. He could still feel pain, but he could feel a charge building up, a charge he got when he was with his bond mates. He slowly began rocking his hips, whimpering as his still sensitive folds rubbed against the heated cod piece but he felt it slide up and pressed himself firmly against the spike housing, feeling the rounded tip of the spike barely emerging. “Do it.”

“No… not wanting hurt mate,” they said, vocalization rough and echoing slightly but their hips were minutely rocking against the smaller mech, trying hard not to pressed into him with their combined mass.

“Please Safeguard… frag me, make me forget about those glitches,” he panted into his audio, hugging him tightly and arching his wings into the warm servo, moaning as the spike slowly pressurized inside him. “Ohh yeesssss…!” he hissed softly.

Safeguard was beside themselves. They were finally going to take their mate like they had always wanted, to show him how much they loved him, but instead of pining him down and proving it they wanted to take care of him, to tend to his injuries and protect him. But now their sweet mate was begging them to take him, to frag him and make him forget about those two seekers. Part of them wanted to storm over and tear the ‘Cons apart, to rip their other wing clean from their frames but their mate came first. Slowly, they allowed their spike to continue to pressurize and groaned hard enough to cause their frame to vibrate which caused the yellow frame to vibrate as well, making him mew softly in pleasure. The valve felt so tight, tighter than they remembered when they was separated but still so hot! Their hips gave shallow thrusts as it continued to pressurize, going in deeper than before, making the minibot cry out and cling to him-them tighter. Soon they was completely inside but they didn’t move right away. No, instead they slowly stood, holding him close they turned and sat down on the rocky surface. Both groaned deeply as the valve tightened around them but they leaned back on their different-colored servos, grinning at the confused look on the Autobot’s faceplates.

“Mate rides Safeguard. Take charge,” they explained though it was very hard not to grab his scratched hips and start thrusting upward.

Bumblebee wanted to argue he was fine with him-them taking charge but he could tell his-their hidden optics were looking over his injuries; they was afraid of hurting him anymore. Nodding he leaned forward and kissed them softly, glossias flickering against each other’s, cradling their helm in his twitching servos he slowly lifted his hips up until only the tip remained then slid back down, drawing out a deep rumbling groan from them. He continued the slow pace, squeezing the spike inside every time he pulled up and rocking his hips when he came down, his lubricant coating the thick cord so each slide was smoother than the last. Soon he wasn’t even kissing them, he was panting for air in an effort to assist his cooling system, vents struggling to keep up despite the slow pace. Safeguard’s own vents were struggling as well and their digits had dug furrows into the rock, frame trembling as they tried to contain themselves.

“T-Take me,” Bee panted, licking their lip plates wetly. Now moving faster, all the pain pushed to the back of his processor to allow pleasure to run its course. His servos moved from their helm to try gripping at their broad shoulders, too short to reach for their wings but it didn’t stop him from clumsily tracing the seams on their chassis, clinging to them as his glossia followed suit, loving tracing the center seam that joined them together. “Please… you’re, my mate too-!” He was cut off as he slid down only to have the larger frame beneath him buck up, jarring him but he mewed sharply in pleasure, the charge rapidly building up. “A-Again!”

They wanted to go slow, to take their time, to savor the feeling and not hurt him, but he was begging for it. Laying back completely Safeguard fondled the aft eagerly, pressing digits into transformation seams, guiding his hips to ride them harder and faster. The blue tinted servo slid up his backstrut and stroked the trembling door wings, realizing with growing anger that one of them was hanging loosely. It was the same wing that they been hurt just prior. The urge to rip off those gaudy wings of the ‘Cons emerged but they had to take care of their mate first. They grunted as their sparks pulsed heavily, wanting to reaffirm their bond the plates began shifting, folding back until the spark was bared and shining so brightly. They heard plates folding back and cried out as their mate leaned down, the energies of their sparks reaching out for one another. They could feel their bonds reforming, becoming stronger, sharing their pleasure, making everything so intense there was no way they could slow down or stop. Not until they reached completion.

Bumblebee reached overload first, throwing his helm back, backstrut arching, screaming his pleasure so loudly his vocalizer gave up in a burst of static and his spark pulsed brilliantly. Safeguard couldn’t take the vice-grip the valve had on their spike and they shouted their mate’s designation as they flooded his system, their own spark letting lose an even brighter burst of pure light; despite the tight seal their spike made they could feel their combined fluids leaking out but as their plating closed the gestalt clung to their bond mate as soon as he collapsed atop of them, still gasping and trembling. They stayed like that for what felt like solar cycles, listening to their cooling fans click off one by one, systems no longer running hot and heavy. Bumblebee was the first to move, his good wing arching into the loving touch he slowly sat up, enjoying the feel of his lover’s spike still nestled inside him and looked down at them.

“Why were you avoiding me earlier?” he asked calmly, no hint of anger left in his vocalizer although there were brief bursts of static.

“… We, is having defrag of gestalt taking over. He-We is not wanting hurt sweet Bee,” they admitted, visor dimming. “We is not telling, not wanting them thinking freaks. We is sorries much.” It was quiet and they were worried they had upset their lover—only to yelp as a helm helm-butted them in the faceplates rather hard. A servo quickly went up, grabbing the sore and slightly dented metal and the other to help steady their cursing mate. “S-Sweet Bee? Why-”

“You afts!” he hissed, holding his helm as tightly as he could. Not a good idea but he couldn’t make a fist with his servos so he hit them with the next best thing. “How many times have I told you two not to care what those glitches think?! You shoulda said something and I would’ve helped you! Both of you!” Primus, this was starting to get confusing! He could feel a slight dent but leaned over to glare at them, letting them see just how mad he was. “Next time you keep something like this from me, you’re both sleeping on the couch for a whole vorn. Got it?”

“Y-yes! We is gotting it!” Their mate was scary when he was mad but as quickly as he hit them they kissed the dent then his lip plates. He happily kissed him back, sitting up to continued holding him close. It was a tender moment that would have led to more interfacing if they weren’t rudely interrupted by the last mech they were expecting.

“Great job, mechs! Rally, you two are so good together!” Swindle said with a slag-eating grin on his faceplates, two cameras perched on his shoulders, recording everything.

“Sw-Swindle?! What are you—How long have you been?!” Bumblebee demanded, not bothering to fight it as Safeguard immediately wrapped their servos around him protectively even as he pressed himself into their chassis. “Wait, are you… are you—recording us?!”

“Sure am! You won’t believe the demand I have for holo-vids like this and thanks to my latest purchase, these holo-vids will make the viewer feel like he, or she, are actually there!” he admitted. “And I was here when my bodyguards took you down. I didn’t think they would do what they did but I may have to rethink their position.” He began muttering to himself he failed to realize that the powerlinx had eased the minibot off his lap or that he was steadily making his way to the Decepticon. “Bumblebee, was it? How would you like to be the star in my holo vids? I can cut you for twenty… per… cent…?” He slowly looked up as a shadow overtook him and his optics widen as he saw the enraged look on the gestalt’s form or the fact that the very air around him was simmering. “A-A-And yo-you are…?”

Safeguard said nothing, staring him down but their two colored servos quickly snapped out and crushed the cameras, even ripping them free from the mech. Swindle cried out in pain and stumbled back, landing roughly on his aft but he was smart enough to know when to cut his losses. “I’ll take that as a no… see ya!!” Transforming he sped away as quickly as he could. His ship was nearby so he could cut his losses and leave and while he didn’t have the full video, at least he had this bit. He was already counting the credits in his processor it took him a klik to realize no matter how fast his odometer said he was going, he wasn’t gaining any distance. “What the?!” he increased his speed, ignoring the way his engine was over heating, expelling a great deal of exhaust and heated air there was still nothing. Angling his windows he could only stare at the orange and blue mech that was holding onto his rear axle, lifting the spinning tires in the air. He knew he should have gone for a front wheel drive!

Safeguard grunted as they lifted the vehicle up, ignoring the spinning tires they turned and slammed it onto its rooftop with such force the impact blew out all the windows and caused the top portion of the frame to crumble. To be certain they applied heated air to the tires, having them to swell then explode, including the spare. No one was going to see their mate in such a way. _Ever._

Bumblebee watched as his powerlinx lover took care of the perv and sighed, glancing in the distance where they had tossed the seekers earlier. Reaching up he activated his comm link and was pleased when he found there was no more static. _::This is Bumblebee, we caught Swindle and his seeker bodyguards.::_ He winced as he heard the ‘Con beg for mercy as Safeguard tried to locate and rip his hidden camera free. _::We’re gonna need help getting these three back to Cybertron.::_ He paused then added for safety, _::They’re definitely gonna need to see a medbot.::_

**Author’s Notes:** And this chapter is done! I kinda deviated from my original plotline but I loved angst and Bee is just so—molestable! (blinks) is that actually a word? Anyway, this is a second request from my favorite and loyal reviewer, SparkySparkfire! This is also the first time I have ever written Safeguard and I had some minor trouble.

According to TFWiki, even though Jetfire and Jetstorm merge to form Safeguard, their processors—minds—don’t merge. So it’s literally two brains in one head. So even though they as one bot, they have the minds of two separate bots. They just work so well together, it may as well seem like they are one bot. Hence my writing style when they kept referring to themselves as “they” and to Bee as “theirs”. I really hope I didn’t confuse anyone ^^ Please leave me a review if you enjoyed it! G’nit, y’all! :D

Next up: _RatchetxBumblebee_


	9. RatchetxBumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight for an AllSpark fragment has unexpected results when an unsuspecting mech lands on it and finds himself centuries younger. Anyone else would have been thrilled, but he’s just confused and frustrated. It doesn’t help when he can’t stop thinking about a certain scout…

**Disclaimer:** Transformers: Animated and everything related belongs to the rightful company Hasbro. I am in no way shape or form making money off this.

**Author’s Notes:** A fight for an AllSpark fragment has unexpected results when an unsuspecting mech lands on it and finds himself centuries younger. Anyone else would have been thrilled, but he’s just confused and frustrated. It doesn’t help when he can’t stop thinking about a certain scout…

Title: _Helllooooo_ _Docbot!_

Pairing: RatchetxBumblebee

Requested: tfamonk (AO3)

Ratchet looked around the factory the Autobots were calling their temporary “base of operations” with a critical optic. The large entertainment screen was off, paint wasn’t splattered everywhere and used mops weren’t scattered along the floor, the communication center was quiet, and there was no other bot here. For once he had the entire factory to himself, it gave him a chance to enjoy the solitude and maybe take a nap without any interruptions.

_‘So why can’t I enjoy it?’_ he thought to himself. Everybot else was busy running around New Detroit for one reason or another and he opted to stay behind and finish several important programs he had started on. But the quiet was much more aggravating than if they were all here to begin with. His vents let out a strong burst of air through his system as he turned to head back to his quarters. _‘Just not used to it, that’s all,’_ he thought. Moving into his room he sat down at his work table and continued working on his project. Eventually he gave his full concentration to said project, muttering under his vents as his processor was preoccupied as his servos moved carefully. He completely failed to realize that one of his teammates had returned and wasn’t bothering to keep quiet about it.

Tires squealed to a halt as a bright yellow compact drove into the living quarters, engine running idle for a few seconds before turning off. The car then transformed into the Autobot scout known as Bumblebee who had a scowl on his faceplates. “Totally not fair! I finally get a chance to spend some time with Sari and she’s not even here!” he mumbled under his vents, crossing his servos over his chassis as he tapped his ped irritably. “And what’s a “family reunion” anyway?” What’s worse, his best (organic) friend wouldn’t be back for at least two Earth weeks. There went all the funs thing he had planned for them to do together he just stood them grumbling to himself before he stopped and let his servos drop. “Primus! I’m starting to sound like grumpy old Ratchet!” he laughed, shaking his helm but he looked towards the hall that led to their rooms. He knew the old medic had chosen to stay behind, something about a program he wanted to finish, but he didn’t say anything about leaving him alone. Grinning Bumblebee headed down and knocked on the door. “Yo Ratchet! You still in there?!” he called out loudly.

There was no answer but Bee frowned. Turning up his audio receivers he could hear something going on inside. “Helllooooo! You home, docbot??” he called out louder, knocking once more but he blinked when the door creaked open. Now the noise was getting louder and he peered inside. “Ratchet?”

Said medic was hunched over something on his worktable, back plates to the door. He was also muttering under his vents but it was too low to make out. Normally the minibot wouldn’t have bothered the grumpy mech but not only was he bored he was very curious as to what had his undivided attention. In Bee’s case, it was not a good combination. He found his peds taking him deeper into the room, moving closer to the medic then peered around him. He blinked, not recognizing the device he was working on but watching him work he was amazed at how dexterous his digits were, carefully soldering circuits together and attaching wires he moved closer, trying to get a better look. Normally this wouldn’t have held his attention for as long as it did but the way he was moving was almost memorizing. It was similar to the way Prowl would practice his moves-

“What are you doing?!”

“GAH!!” The minibot jerked back, optics wide he had completely forgot about the medbot as he leaned back only to lose his balance and hit the floor with a loud clang. He gripped the back of his helm where he had landed, wincing as his digits brushed over a slight dent. “Oow! I think I dented my processor!”

“Then it wasn’t anything important,” the medic grumbled but he got up from his seat and knelt before him as he sat up. “Don’t move, you fell pretty hard,” he said as he examined his helm. He saw the dent located along the base of one of the small horns and brushed a digit along it as gently as he could but grabbed the mech still when he jerked away. “Hold still!”

“It hurts!” Bee whined, wincing in discomfort. Ratchet muttered something but the scout sighed, letting air escape his vents. The very gentle touch had startled him more than hurt, especially when said digit brushed along the base of his horn. Everybot thought they were just decoration, part of his plating, but it was much more than that. Like seeker’s wings his were sensitive to touch but they also registered sound vibrations; the servo gently pushed at the back of his helm, getting him to lower it. “How’s it look, docbot?” he asked after a klik of silence.

“You dented it alright, it’s deeper than I expected from such a short fall,” he answered, frowning slightly. Pulling back he helped him onto his peds and pointed to the medical berth. “Sit and I’ll pop it right out.”

“Right.” As the white and red mech turned to get his tools Bumblebee took a step and suddenly felt like he was going to fall over. He didn’t say anything and forced himself to move, making it to the berth and pulling himself up. _‘That was weird, I actually felt dizzy.’_ He never got dizzy, even the times he took Sari to the amusement park and went on some of the rides he never experienced anything like it.

Grabbing the necessary tools, the CMO moved over and had his patient lay down. Having him turn his helm to the side he began to get to work. “I thought you were patrolling the city with the others,” he said after a few quiet kliks.

“That was Prowl and Optimus. Bulkhead went to the junk yard and I went to visit Sari, but she’s outta town so I came back here,” he explained, frowning slightly. “I shouted your designation when I came back but you didn’t answer.”

“I was busy working on something,” he muttered, taking a tool he began the process of trying to pop the dent out. He had sent a burst of medical coding to numb the area so the scout wasn’t shifting and making his job more difficult. “Haven’t you heard of knocking?”

“I did knock! But you didn’t answer so I came in. What are you fixing anyway?”

“I’m making a scanner that can detect the energy signals of AllSpark fragments. If it works, I can make more and we can search for more fragments.”

“That sounds awesome!! We can get all the shards before the ‘Cons know what hit them!!” Oh to see the look on Megadolt’s faceplates if they managed to get all the shards before they could even search for one would be more than worth it. “You’re a genius, Ratch!”

“I have to finish it first,” he murmured, ignoring the small flicker of warmth at being complimented. He rarely received any form of acknowledgement, just the usual thanks when he finished repairs but this was different. “And how many times have I told ya not to call me that?”

“Aww but it’s your designation! Just shorter,” he grinned. For the next breem or two the medic finally managed to pop the dent out and was going to check to see if the protoform underneath was damaged but the alarm went off. Both mechs left the medical bay and quickly headed to the communication center.

Ratchet was quick to get to the center, pulling up a screen only to start cursing up a storm. “Of all the timing!” he growled out.

“What? What is it?” Bumblebee asked, trying very hard not to fall over. He was still having difficulty with his balance but he ignored it and listened to the medic.

“Optimus! Come in, we have an emergency!” the medic shouted.

_“Optimus here, what’s wrong?”_

“I got a distress signal from Bulkhead! He stumbled across an AllSpark fragment but the Decepticons are trying to get it themselves!”

_“What?!”_

“He’s at the scrapyard right now. He needs back-up-”

“Then what are we waiting for?!”

“Wha?? B-Bumblebee-!!”

“Bulkhead needs help and I’m gonna help him!!” the scout shouted, running away from the communication center he transformed and peeled out, racing as fast as he could.

“Of all the glitching things!” Never had the medic wanted to strangle the energon out of anyone even as he transformed and raced after the scout, shouting at him to wait.

* * *

The scrapyard was a battle field as Bulkhead tried to keep from getting blasted by not only Blitzwing and Lugnut, but Starscream as well. It helped when the seeker blasted at the Decepticons when they tried getting too close to the fragment but he also didn’t hesitate to open fire on him when the Autobot tried the same thing.

_‘At this rate they’re gonna destroy the fragment before anybot has a chance to grab it!’_ he thought to himself.

“That fragment is mine!!” the seeker screamed, flying in low but cried out in pain as his wing was encased in ice.

“Looky! I made a Con-sicle!” Random burst out laughing only to yelp when said seeker fired back at him.

Lugnut ignored the two as he hurled scrap metal aside in his search for the fragment. During the fight with the Autobot scum the fragment had gotten lost and they were unable to locate it. “I must find that fragment! For the glory of Lord Megatron himself!” he declared as he lifted the rusty remains of a mangled truck frame high above his helm. He failed to notice the wrecking ball as it hit him straight on, knocking him back onto his faceplates.

Bulkhead quickly retracted his wrecking ball, smirking to himself ever so slightly. “Next time try being quieter when you look for something!” he taunted. If he could find the shard first, he could try and sneak away before the others noticed! But it was easier said than done as he had no idea where the shard could be! “C’mon! Where did it go??” he mumbled to himself, digging through scrap he looked up just in time to see the bulky purple Decepticon run right into him, the two grappling as they tumbled down a steep incline of rusty and badly dented scraps of metal.

Bumblebee didn’t bother to stop as he raced into the scrapyard, kicking up dirt and discarded bits of metal into the air, he kept moving even as he transformed into his robot mode. “Bulkhead!! I’m here to help!!” he shouted but there was no sign of his best friend. He had tried comming him on the way but he heard over his comm link was static, which meant he somehow damaged it when he fell earlier and didn’t realize it but that didn’t stop him from shouting. He cursed when he noticed Starscream and Blitzwing shooting at each other but there was no sign of the bulky Autobot. He shook his helm, trying to fight off another dizzy spell as he raced between tall piles of metal.

Blitzwing pulled back and fire another blast of ice, catching the traitorous SIC in the chassis and knocking him to the ground. He heard shouting and noticed the yellow scout shouting for his friend. “It vould seem ve have more uninvited guests,” he said to himself as he landed and took careful aim. “Good bye, Autobot.”

Ratchet skidded into the junk yard, pushing his engine as fast as he could he kept going and rammed front end first into the pile of junk the triple changer was standing atop of. It hurt a lot more than he thought it would but there was the satisfied yelp as the Decepticon was knocked to the ground only to be buried under the broken pile of trash as it fell over atop of him.

“Take that, ya slagger,” the medic growled. He had received a comm link from both Optimus and Prowl that they were kliks away from their location but when he tried sending another comm to Bumblebee all he got back was static. _::Bulkhead, this is Ratchet. Where the scrap are you??::_ he comm’ed him. He got his answer very unexpectantly.

A green frame grappling with a purple frame crashed through a wall of crushed cars behind the medic, trying to gain an upper servo on the other. Blue optics widen even as he lifted his servo, plates sliding back as his magnets pulled out. The overly loyal soldier never knew what hit him as he went flying off his opponent from the magnetic force, crashing into a pile of junk.

Bulkhead was hurting but as the static cleared from his optics he gave the medic a weak smile. “F-Found me,” he stuttered lightly.

“Hold still so I can get a proper diagnostic scan,” he muttered, holding him still until the scan finished. “You’ll live, but what the slag were you thinking taking on Lugnut?!” he yelled even as he helped him to his peds.

“I-I didn’t ha-have much of a cho-cho-choice.” Frowning, the soft sparked mech took a klik to reset his vocalizer to stop the stuttering. “B-Besides, we gotta find that fragment before they do.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” On top of them he had to find Bumblebee before he tried to do something really glitchy, like take on Starscream and Blitzwing by himself!

On the other side of the scrapyard said minibot was still looking for his best friend, racing between tall piles of crushed vehicles and other items, but once in a while his optics would fill with static and his processor would ache. He braced himself against a broken piece of machinery, lifting a servo to his helm he winced as digits brushed over his sensory horn. The touch hurt way more than it normally should and his receiver was now malfunctioning, the sounds were either too loud or he couldn’t hear anything at all. No doubt his brief “accident” really did affect his processor but he didn’t have time to just sit there and let his self-repair deal with it.

_‘Gotta find Bulkhead—and the fragment,’_ he thought, running down a short distance he yelped in surprise as the piles of metal behind him exploded with enough force that it sent him flying into the air. Once more he landed in a rather undignified heap; his processor rattled painfully in his helm and he could feel it attempting to shut down but Bee forced it to remain online as he tried to get up.

“You walking malfunction!! You will pay for that!!” Starscream seethed angrily, one of his wings covered in some nasty looking scratches and the front of his chassis covered in scorch marks.

Blitzwing growled angrily as he forced himself onto his peds, one of his shoulder cannons sparking badly but the other lowered itself down. “It joo vho’s going to pay for this!!” Hothead yelled angrily, only for his faceplates to shift to the insane mech everybot called Random (for obvious reason). “I accept most major credit cards!!” he cackled and unleashed a powerful blast of ice from the working cannon. It would have hit the seeker if he hadn’t lifted his own servos up, firing at him repeatedly with his null ray rifles. They struck the triple changer who fell back, setting off the hyperfrost emitter into the air.

“Lousy glitch,” the seeker muttered, trying hard to ignore the pain in his wing but he turned when he heard movement and sneered when he noticed Bumblebee who was still having difficulty trying to get up on his own two peds. “Autobots? Here??” His logistics were arguing that now would be a good reason to take off but like always he chose to ignore them and headed for the downed scout.

_‘I-I gotta get outta here!’_ Bumblebee thought to himself, ignoring the command to reboot his processor but just as he managed to get control over his stabilizers he was grabbed from behind and thrown backwards where he skidded onto his back plates. _‘Least, I didn’t hit my helm again,’_ he thought but it was a bittersweet moment as the seeker seemed to appear above him, a ped painfully pressing down on his chassis. “Get off, slagger!” he snapped, trying to push the ped off but stopped when he heard the null ray gun warming up.

“Where is the AllSpark fragment, Autobot?” he demanded, purposely pressing down with his ped until he heard a grunt of pain.

“Get bent!” The ped was lifted only to slam back down, creating a dent in the plating and cracking the false glass. “I-I don’t know! I came here to find Bulkhead!”

“You could very well be lying, but that doesn’t matter. I’ll just use you as a means to get the fragments you Autofools gathered so far. Tell me, scout, would they do anything to make sure you were returned in one piece?”

“Frag you!!”

“Interesting answer. Then I’ll just have to leave them a message to prove how serious I am,” he smirked, flexing the sharp claws on his servo he made to reach down, no doubt to do some serious harm but he never had the chance.

A strong burst of magnetic energy struck the distracted seeker, violently pulling him away from the scout only to smash into a slightly confused Blitzwing who had just recovered from being knocked onto his aft. Both mechs collided with a very loud (and no doubt painful) crash of metal on metal, their processors entering a temporary shutdown. Bumblebee continued to lay there, wondering what in the Pitt had just happened when he picked up someone shouting his designation.

“-blebee!! Hey, you alright!?”

“B… Bulkhead? Izzat you?” he called out, forcing himself to sit up, his servo coming up to gingerly touch the heavy dent on his chassis.

Ratchet sighed in relief when he saw the minibot sitting up and didn’t bother to stop the green mech from trying to run towards him. “Just stay there, we’re on our way!” he shouted, hoping he had heard.

“Yeah… yeah, I don’t wanna think about moving,” he groaned to himself, still ignoring the command to reboot his systems when he noticed something shining just off to the side. Turning he noticed a black remote control toy car with yellow racing stripes going down the center. It was scratched up and three of its wheels were missing but something was glowing from inside. He reached out, grabbing it and gave it a shake. Something rattled so he shook it some more and stared as a fragment came tumbling out. Bee silently lifted the shard up to his optics, smiling weakly. “So that’s where you’ve been… nice choice,” he chuckled softly.

In that moment several things seemed to happen at once and it all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye as the humans would say. Bumblebee’s audio gave out so he was pretty much deaf at the same moment Lugnut emerged from the other side. Bulkhead, while not built for speed, moved as fast as he could, yelling for the scout to move as he focused solely on the Decepticon. Ratchet was trying to get to the minibot to get him out of harm’s way, readying his magnets just in case. In that same moment as the scout was trying to stand he saw his best friend racing at him and made to call out to him but his optics widen as he saw him firing his wrecking ball at him. He saw his lip plates moving and even though he couldn’t hear what he was saying, he threw himself down and felt the vibrations as the wrecking ball sailed over him, connecting with Lugnut who refused to back down and gave the cable a hard yank, pulling the Autobot to him.

The CMO felt like his vents were going to give out as he made it to the scout’s side, helping him sit up. He didn’t have the luxury to finish what he started but it didn’t stop him from pulling him up. “Let’s get outta here!” he shouted at him and was about to lead him off when the scout grabbed at his arm. “Move it, kid-!”

“Look!” he shouted, pushing the worry aside that he could barely hear his own vocalizer and showed him the glowing fragment. “I found it!” he continued to shout, pleased with himself. He thought the medic would be happy but he was pulling at him to move. He winced when his audios turned back on and he turned in time to see Lugnut lifting the Autobot wrecker over his helm. “B-Bulkhead!!”

“Inferior Autobot!! The fragment shall belong to the Decepticons only!!” he declared as he hurled his beaten opponent at the two Autobots.

Bumblebee didn’t think twice about his actions as he pulled his servo free from his grip and then pushed him as hard as he could out of the way. The next thing he knew was the heavy mass of his best friend since boot camp slamming into him, knocking the two of them from the yelling medic. The AllSpark fragment soundlessly fell from his servo, glowing softly with an unnatural light but the scout didn’t notice as he saw warnings fill his HUD, systems going offline one by one he knew his processor was entering emergency stasis lock until his injuries were repaired. He never heard the sound of missiles being launched, never realized his other teammates had located him and Bulkhead and were trying to get them to safety, never witness a sudden flash of a intensely bright light. All he knew was quiet darkness.

* * *

Systems were slowly coming online one by one, slowly rousing the medic from recharge with a bit of confusion. _‘Auto repair complete… why the slag would I need auto re-?_ ’ A quick video of that slagging glitch Lugnut releasing his seemingly endless supply of missiles at him (as well as the entire junk yard). He remembered trying to use his EMP generator to get rid of the missiles and knock out Lugnut long enough for him to get away but something happened and he remembered being thrown back. _‘I hit something and then there’s this bright light… what the slag did I land on?’_ He couldn’t remember, but whatever it was caused his entire system to malfunction and before he knew it he was forced into emergency stasis lock.

“Ratchet? Are you awake?” Optimus Prime asked, concern more than evident in his vocalizer.

“… what do you think?” he muttered, forcing his optics to open then online. It took a klik for the pixels to adjust but he vented a quiet sigh when he saw he was currently in his quarters. Forcing himself to sit up he was surprised that he didn’t hear gears groaning as they usually did, in fact nothing so much as squeaked. “What happened?” he asked instead, turning so he was now sitting with his peds on the floor.

“Well, prowl and I managed to locate the three of you just as Lugnut was releasing his missiles and we were able to get Bumblebee and Bulkhead to safety. We were going to come help you but one of the missiles landed a short distance in front of you and the blast sent you flying back,” he explained, straight to the point.

“Sounds about right.” It could also explain the bright light he had seen briefly. “What about the fragment?”

“Excuse me?”

“The AllSpark fragment. Bumblebee found it, he showed it to me before he pushed me aside-” His optics widen as he remembered seeing the soft-sparked green mech smash into the smaller scout, the impact no doubt causing him to crash. He jumped to his peds, worried about the scout’s previous injuries but the Prime stopped him. He was not in the mood and was prepared to shove the other Autobot out of his way but as he lifted his servos up he froze when he noticed something very different about the. Blinking several times he looked down at himself. His plating wasn’t dinged or dented, there wasn’t even a scratch. His servos were still scuffed at the tips of his digits, but there didn’t appear to be as much wear on them. He couldn’t hear the groan of old gears shifting inside, didn’t hear anything rattling around as he moved, didn’t have that annoying squeak his joints made that no amount of oil could get rid of. “Move, slag it!” he muttered as he pushed the Prime away and pulled up a piece of broken glass and stared at his faceplates. He wasn’t by any stretch of the imagination a vain mech and he used it at times to check himself for any injuries he might have missed, but the faceplates staring at him were ones he had not seen for eons. He wanted to know what the frag happened but he could only stare openly at his reflection.

“Ratchet… I didn’t realize it at first, but when you were thrown back, well, you landed on the fragment and it—shattered,” the Prime said quietly. “The entire junk yard was covered in a bright light and when it died down Prowl and I found you where you had landed, looking like _that_.”

“Wait. Are you saying, the power of that fragment did this!?” the medic demanded as he lowered the mirror to stare at the other mech. He looked uncertain but then again the power contained within the AllSpark was something even after millennia of study no bot could ever figure out. And it would explain why his frame was no longer creaking but as far as he could tell that was the extent. He still retained his memories, his experiences, and his demons of the past. “Never mind, where’s Bumblebee?” he demanded.

“The medbay. Ratchet wait!” But the CMO ignore the order and immediately stormed from his room to the room next door, entering her saw that the minibot was laying on the medical berth, wires hooked up to the equipment he used when treating their injuries. He was dimly aware of Prowl standing off to the side but he ignored him and began reading off the data from the machinery.

_‘His chassis got damaged but nothing too serious, his processor was focused in stasis lock no doubt from his fall and then all the banging around he did,’_ he uttered to himself as he checked to make sure the wires were hooked up to the correct medical ports. He would be waking up from recharge within the solar cycle and his self-repair will have finished with everything. He blinked when he realized his servo was gently resting on the yellow helm before slowly pulling back and turned to both his Prime and the Cyber Ninja. “How long has he been out?”

“A little over a deca-cycle,” Prowl answered. “As soon as we arrived back Optimus and I checked for any injuries we could treat.”

“What about Bulkhead?”

“He’s fine, his self-repair took care of any injuries he sustained and woke up a joor ago,” Optimus explained as well. “Ratchet, perhaps you should rest-”

“I’ll rest later. I want to make sure the kid—I mean Bumblebee, is fully functioning when he wakes up.” He turned his back on them, looking at the data pad in his servo but he listened as the two mechs told him to comm him for anything and left, the door closing behind them. After a few kliks he set the data pad down and quietly looked down at the minibot. Things could have gone badly ad while they didn’t have the fragment (not exactly) neither did the ‘Cons. Venting softly he reached down and patted the smaller mech on the shoulder. “Get some rest, kid.”

* * *

The first thing Bumblebee was aware of as his system booted up was a dull ache in his processor. Scans were coming back as good in his HUD and his repairs were all complete. _‘What repairs?’_ he thought to himself even as he slowly pushed himself up so he was sitting. He felt servos helping him up and allowed them to steady him. “Thanks,” he muttered as his optics came online, flickering before coming in clear.

“How many times am I gonna have to tell you not to rush in helm first?” came the familiar gruff tone.

“I lost track after the first hundred…” His words trailed off as he looked up at the CMO and reset his optics but the image before him didn’t change. There was something very different about the medic but he wasn’t exactly sure what it was. He jumped when he felt servos move along his helm and watched as he removed the cables from his data ports. He could only stare at his servos which looked like the plating had been completely replaced and buffed to a shine-

“Did you hear anything I just said?” The sudden question made him jump and he whirled to face the mech, telling himself that his faceplates were not getting heated right now.

“Um, y-yes?”

“Then what did I just say?”

Scrap! What _did_ he just say?? “Don’t do it again?”

Ratchet muttered something under his vents but didn’t smack the scout upside his helm as he was known to do. “You’re all repaired so get outta here,” he said, turning away from him to put everything away.

Bumblebee didn’t know why he felt hurt even as he slowly slipped off the medical berth but he stood there, watching the white and red mech move around, studying his frame and realizing it wasn’t just his servos that looked new, it was everything. The grumpy old medbot was much younger and the scout couldn’t help but think that he looked good. His faceplates grew even warmer when the medic bent over to pick up a dropped tool and was quick to look away when he stood.

Ratchet was confused; what was he still doing here? Normally when he was done with his repairs or maintenance he was out of here before he could say anything and yet here he was, his faceplate practically glowing. “Now what?” he asked.

“I, um, I just… you know… ah, the scrapyard…?” Oh Primus, he wasn’t making any sense at all! He jumped when Ratchet snapped at him and felt some of the heat fade away. “What happened to you?”

Blue optics blinked, vents cycling air heavily. “I was making sure that giant glitch Lugnut didn’t blow you and Bulkhead to space dust. ‘Cept one of those slagging missiles blew up and I was thrown back onto the AllSpark fragment and this happened,” he explained, shrugging as he crossed his servos over his chassis. “Least the ‘Cons don’t have it.”

Bee blinked, taking in all the data and was trying very hard to keep his lip plates from twitching into a smile. “Lemme get this straight, you pretty much landed on the AllSpark and you broke it?” The medic didn’t have to say anything but his posture said it all and the yellow mech was struggling to stand as he burst out laughing, vents hitching and vocalizer releasing bursts of static. “Y-Y-You fell-l on i-i-it??”

“It’s not funny!!” the medic yelled angrily. Well, okay it might be a little bit funny—no wait, it wasn’t!! “G-get outta my medbay!!” But the minibot was laughing so hard he couldn’t even stand. Normally he would have thrown the annoying scout out but instead he growled and left for his own room, growling that he could still hear him laughing. It wasn’t that funny!

* * *

Bumblebee wasn’t the type to think before he raced, he was a take action kind of mech. But he was also the type that let his lip components run off before his processor and logic circuitry had a chance to stop him. Example: laughing at Ratchet for breaking the fragment by landing on it. He hadn’t mean to laugh so hard but it was just too funny! But even if the mysterious powers made him younger it didn’t do much for his personality components. He tried apologizing but the mech refused to listen, yelling at him to get outta the medbay and his rooms, that he was busy. And it wasn’t just that, the scout was having an incredibly difficult time not staring at the mech when he did leave his room.

Ratchet was rude, short tempered, grouchy, and tended to hit those who didn’t listen (like Bee) and was always yelling at everybot but the scout noted that his plating was brighter, his frame didn’t have as many scratches or dents as before, and even his reaction times were much faster. It was now almost impossible to prank him! And he wasn’t sure why but every time he thought about him or saw him doing something innocent like bending over to pick up something his cooling fans kicked into high gear. He lied that he was fine if anyone asked what was wrong and even if he admitted something was wrong what was he going to say, that his systems overheated when he thought of the medbot who was no doubt old enough to be his great-great-great grandcreator?

“This is so stupid!” Bee muttered to himself angrily, digits pressing the buttons of his controller rapidly. His video game character attacked his opponent in a flurry of punches and kicks. What normally would have brought him great joy was more of a stress reliever and even that wasn’t helping. Frowning he skipped through the credits and got up from the couch. He had tried making it up to the medic, helping out in the medbay, trying to be nice, complimenting him but each attempt was a total failure and Ratchet would only give him a weird look and kept saying he needed a diagnosis scan to check for any errors or viruses plaguing his processor. It got to the point where he just gave up and tried to ignore the heat every time he thought of the grouchy medic.

“Don’t even know why I’m thinking about him, all he does is yell and throw stuff,” the scout muttered as he moved to the small pile of video games Sari had given him. But whenever he repaired him his touch was gentle and soothing, he was always looking out for everyone, and even though physically he was a lot younger that didn’t mean he wasn’t the same CMO he had known ever sense he signed onto the maintenance crew. “Just, gotta stop thinking ‘bout him!” Frustrated he pulled open one of the video game cases, ready to pull the disc out but he watched as it flew out and rolled across the floor. Cursing Bee rushed after it only to miss it as it slid under the concrete-made couch. “Slagging pitt!” One of many curses he heard the medic utter but he reached down and wedged his servo underneath to try and grab the disc. “Oh c’mon! I haven’t played that one yet!” He wedged his servo deeper, grunting as he struggled to reach the game.

Ratchet vented softly as he stepped out of his berthroom, rubbing the cables in the back of his neck. They were stiff from being hunched over his work table but he was finally done with that blasted scanner. But before he could test it out his HUD indicated low fuel reserves. _‘Now’s a good time as any for some refuel.’_ It was quiet in the factory and he remembered vaguely that the others were doing patrols. That was fine with him as he headed over to grab a cube of energon but he paused when he heard a grunt and turned, nearly dropping the cube at the sight.

Bumblebee was currently on his knees, chassis and helm pressed to the floor, one of his servos wedged deeply under the couch. He was grunting and making strange noises while muttering under his vents about some disc but all the medic could see was the brightly colored aft in the air, wiggling back and forth, grunting as he tried reaching-

“Got it!” the scout cheered as his digits managed to grab the disk and pulled it free, wincing slightly as the concrete scratched at his plating. Sitting on his knees he looked the disk over, glad to see it wasn’t damaged he turned to get to his peds but froze when he saw the object of his “affections” standing there, looking at him with large optics. “Uh, hey Ratch. Did ya, need something?” he asked slowly. Why was he staring at him? Did he have something on his faceplates?

“!!” It would be so easy to tell him what he needed right now but a small part of his processor that was still working spoke up and he found himself grinding his denta together hard enough to hurt. “Nothing,” he growled out and quickly turned, heading back to his room. He thought he heard the minibot calling out to him but he refused to stop or acknowledge he had heard him. Once inside he closed the door behind it and found his vents were cycling air rapidly, his internal temperature gauge was high, activating his cooling system. For a brief klik he thought he was coming down with something but that wasn’t the case. It had been a very long time since he felt like this about any bot but there was no denying that he had been very tempted to go over, wrap his servos around those slender hips and pull his aft back-

“No!!” he growled to himself, refusing to let the image linger but his systems were still heating up, ignoring the command to stop. Even his logic circuitry was silent. “No, I am not thinking about him like that! He’s just a kid!” he hissed to himself as he moved over to his work table, trying to find something he could focus on but he kept thinking back to the annoying minibot. Processor wise he may act like a sparkling but he didn’t have the frame of one, that was for sure. He tried listing off his more annoying qualities in hopes of quelling this slagging heat coursing through him but his processor would counter it with a positive trait. The heat was beginning to get out of control and his fans were having a difficult time in keeping it contained. If he didn’t find a way to alleviate it, he could suffer severe damage. And right now there was only one solution to his dilemma (really there were two solutions but he wasn’t about to go down that path) so he forced himself to move over to his berth and laid down.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered to himself but there was no other choice. He allowed his optics to dim as he brought one of his servos up, tracing at the seams on his chassis he held back the moan as his digits began moving over the plating, purposely moving over sensitive seams and tracing them lightly at first before tracing harder. He couldn’t remember the last time he had done this but his frame knew. He could feel his spark pulsing strongly in his chassis, wanting to open but he firmly kept it close, refusing the command even as his other servo came up, stroking the seams over his pelvic plating.

He should have kept his optics online even at their lowest setting but the moment they went offline his processor took over. Suddenly it wasn’t his white digits roughly stroking the seams on his frame, these were yellow and were moving slowly, as though teasing him. The condensation was building, tiny droplets running between gaps in his plating, but as soon as it touched his protoform underneath it evaporated into steam. He locked his jaw shut, refusing to let a single moan escape but oh how he longed to as digits traced the seams along his cod piece, rubbing at the suddenly sensitive metal.

“ _C’mon docbot… I can help you out,_ ” came the low purr, bright optics darken and dimmed just like his own. “ _I wanna help you out._ ”

“N-Noo…” he growled out but it was lost as the digits continued stroking between his stabilizers, hips bucking up into the touch. He tried to tune out the voice box but it was no use and his panel slid back, gasping as his spike immediately emerged from its housing. He could still stop it but why would he want to, especially as a servo slowly wrapped around the stiff cable, stroking it with such slowness he felt like he was being tortured. “K-K-Ki-d-d!” he gasped, optics opening but he didn’t register it was his own servo wrapped tightly around his spike, slowly guiding it up and down.

“ _Don’t you feel better, Ratch?_ ” the minibot purred as he continued to slowly stroke the spike, letting the transfluid ooze from the tip and coat his digits. He lowered his faceplates down to get a closer look at the thick cable, watching as thick silvery drops of transfluid continued to spill free. “ _Big spike… I wonder, how’s it taste,_ ” he purred, purposely getting close enough to drag his glossia along the underside from base to tip in one sensual, languid lick, smirking at the startled gasp.

“Oh Pr-Primusss!” the medic hissed sharply, his servo now moving faster, bending his stabilizers he dug his peds into his berth, hips bucking up into his touch. It was on his glossia to beg the scout to do more, to grab him by the back of his helm and force him to take him in, to overload in his oral cavity—it was so good, so hot, he arched his backstrut, shouting something and felt ready to overload when he heard a crash that rudely pulled him from his fantasy.

Bumblebee glanced down at the shattered energon cube on the floor he had dropped, his faceplates so bright a red he was sure he resembled a traffic light. “I-S-Sorry! Sorry! I was-just I-um-le-lemme clean th-this up!” he said quickly, falling over his words he knelt and began picking up the broken shards, ignoring the way the sharp edges pricked the sensitive tips of his digits. He was telling himself he did not see what he thought he saw, nor did he heard him call out his designation but as he opened his mouth plates to say something he flinched at the loud voice.

“What the slag is your malfunction?! Are you making it a habit to barge into another bot’s berthroom with no warning, or just mine?!” Ratchet yelled at him, having scrambled off his berth he was struggling to retract his spike back into its housing but it was no use. He winced when he saw the hurt look in his optics but this was for the best, he had to clear things up before it went too far.

“But Ratch-”

“I told you don’t call me that!! Now get out!!”

“But I… you…”

“But nothing!! Why the frag are you in my berthroom anyway?! Don’t you have some bot else to annoy the Pitt outta?!”

“If I’m so fragging annoying than how come you were moaning my designation right now?!” the scout suddenly snapped, hurling the broken shards down onto the floor as his stinging digits curled into fists. “I came here because I thought you wanted some slagging energon and I knocked but you didn’t hear me! I woulda left but then I heard you moaning and I thought you were hurt! I came in because I was worried about ya and I find you doing— _that_ while moaning _my_ designation!” He saw the medic freeze in place and for a brief klik he wondered if he had crashed but he didn’t care as he stormed forward, refusing to look down at the still leaking spike he was desperately trying to hide. “Admit it, docbot, you were moaning my designation while you were self ‘facing! Admit it!!”

“… You’re right.”

“Liar!! You slagging, two-faced liar—wait.” The minibot froze as the words finally pushed their way past his anger and he took a step away from the medic, optics wide. “You… say that again?”

“I said, you’re right. I was, self-interfacing and I may have called out your designation but there’s nothing more to it,” he said quickly and refused to look at him, ignoring the way his spark seemed to twist in his chassis as he forced the words out. “You’re my patient but your also my teammate and my friend. And I… I won’t let it ruin what we have.” His servos pulled into tight fists, struggling to say what needed to be said even if it hurt. “Why would a kid care about a broken down old bot like me, anyway.”

Did… did he really think he didn’t care about him? Okay sure he could be a major pain in the aft, and most of his pranks were revolved around seeing how quickly he could make him lose his temper, but that didn’t mean he hated him. “Ratch…” He didn’t know how to tell him he was wrong, that he did like him more than just as a teammate, that there was more to him than a grouchy war medic but he walked up to him, taking his clenched fist into his servo, slipping his digits inside and reached up with the other servo to gently tilt his helm to face him. “Stop treating me like a sparkling, you glitch and kiss me.”

“Wha!?” Without any warning he was pulled down by a surprising strong minibot and kissed. And this wasn’t a chaste peck on the lip plates, this was a deep, passionate kiss from someone who was clearly not a kid. Before he could stop himself he found himself kissing him back, sagging against the edge of his berth he squeezed his servo back tightly, the other reaching out and settling on a slender hip, clutching at it as his thick digits roughly caressed the hidden wires and cables between the gaps. He swallowed the soft gasp and deepen the kiss more as he thrust his glossia inside. It was his turn to moan as another glossia slid against his own, a small frame pressing into him, the heat rapidly building between them. Ratchet was losing himself in the kiss, thinking this was just some fevered image his processor was providing him but he broke the kiss as he felt a small servo wrap around his spike and began stroking it roughly, the movements jerky and uncoordinated but no less pleasurable.

“K-Kid-”

“Not a kid,” came the breathless pant, both their cooling fans running on high and making it rather difficult to be heard over the sound.

“Bum-Bumblebee... s-stop… you, you don’t know w-what you’re doing.” And he didn’t, not really. His servo was moving too hard and too fast, clearly showing his inexperience in this sort of thing but the medic reached down to cover his servo with his own, halting his movements.

“But, I want this. I want you, Ratch.” He did want him, and he knew he wanted him as well. He had been right there when he called out his designation! He couldn’t help but feel disappointed as his servo was removed from the spike and was bracing himself from outright rejection but he squeaked in surprise as he was lifted and placed on the wide berth. He wanted to ask the medbot what he was doing but the words froze on his glossia as those large servos stroked at his stabilizers, coaxing them open. He was even more surprised those same talented servos had been admiring so long ago as they slid up his trembling stabilizers, moaning as the digits pressed into seams, then gasped as two thick digits rubbed at his yellow panel, stroking the metal with a oh so talented touch! “N-ngh!” he groaned as he bucked into the touch, leaning forward to hold onto him.

“Lemme show you how to get an old bot like me off,” he whispered into his audio, nuzzling the side of his helm with far more affection than he was ever used to giving. He chuckled as the cod piece immediately retracted and the scout’s spike pressurized fully. “Eager minibot.”

“S-Shut up,” Bee grumbled; so what if he was eager, he couldn’t help it! Nor could he help but moan deeply as thick digits wrapped around his spike, slowly tugging at his spike as they moved up towards the tip then slid back down. His hips bucked up into the touch as it was repeated again and again, causing a heavy gush of transfluid to seep from the tip. “R-Ratch—Primus!”

“Never been called Primus before,” the medbot teased as he pushed the scout so he was laying back on his berth and continued to tease the spike. It was smaller than his own but it seemed as though it was much more sensitive. He brushed the white digits of his other servo up, caressing the panel that was covering in a heavy coating of condensation and lubricant. “Ready for an inspection, Bee?”

The scout could only answer with a low moan and bucking of hips as he gave the command for his panel to retract. As soon as it was open though he remember something very important that he forgot to tell the medic. “R-Ratch, wait-!” Optics grew large and his backstrut arched as a blunt digit gently traced the thin seal covering his valve, rubbing it and feeling the lubricant begging to escape.

“You’re still sealed…” Ratchet couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a sealed valve, well, outside of work anyway. He had thought when he didn’t see a seal over Bee’s spike he had broken the other as well but a seal over the spike was easier to break during bouts of self-interfacing than the valve. He was prepared to stop but shivered in pleasure when digits brushed over the chevron on his helm, leaning into the touch.

“Ratch… break my seal,” he moaned softly, sliding his yellow servo down to the one covering his spike, encouraging it to keep stroking. “Please… wanna… wanna feel you, inside me.”

“Kid—I mean, Bee… I… we…” What if he hated him for it? What if later on he found somebot he wanted to give his spark to and regretted losing his seal to an old bot like him? “… are, are you sure… you want this?”

There was no hesitation as the scout continued to trace the chevron and let his digits linger down the side of his faceplates, tilting him up as Bee smiled down at him. “I’m sure. Unless, you’re too old for this?” There was a flash in the medbot’s optics that made him shiver in pleasure at the intensity he saw. He blinked and squeaked as he found himself down on his chassis, aft being pulled up so he was sitting up on his joints. He flushed when he realized this was the same position Ratchet had seen him in earlier when he had dropped his game disc except this time he didn’t have his arm wedged under the couch. He gasped and whimpered as he felt something slick trace the lining of his seal, clenching at the berth tightly, hips bucking as the sensations continued.

“Just relax, Bee, and let me take care of this,” the medic murmured, lavishing the seal with his glossia. He licked up the stray drops of lubricant that managed to escape and moaned at the sweet, oily taste. “So good,” he murmured as he went back to lick it, gently probing the flexible seal as his servo came up to grasp and stroke at his hanging spike, smirking when the minibot let out a loud cry of pleasure. “Better than oil or high grade.”

Bee tried to tell him to stop teasing him but all he could do was moan in pleasure, sometimes cry out loudly as he did something that caused his system to spark. His sensory network was on high, increasing his sensitivity by a hundred. No, a thousand—no, a hundred thousand! His servos clutched at the edges of the berth, stabilizers trembling but everything was too good. Lifting his helm he immediately dropped it down and watched as a strong servo stroked and tugged at his spike, digits pressing into the thin seams and ridges, pressing into the tip and making him cry out. He flushed as he realized there was a puddle of transfluid forming beneath him but before he could tell Ratchet there was a slight sting that made him wince but it was very soon forgotten as a hot, wet, flexible glossia pushed its way inside. He was certain he screamed the medic’s designation as his frame overloaded but the pleasure didn’t stop through it all.

Ratchet wouldn’t come out and say he was just a tiny bit disappointed that the scout couldn’t wait a bit longer before he overloaded but his delicious lubricant more than made up for it as he swallowed it, his glossia stroking at as many sensory nodes he could reach. He was dimly aware that his servo was coated in transfluid, the spike slowly depressurizing he felt it slid back into its housing. That was fine as he could devote his attention to the sweet valve. Pulling back a thin strand of oral lubricant connected them before it broke. It was such a wonderful sight, he took several images of it but his own spike was begging to buried deep inside, to feel the tightness surrounding him, to caress the sensitive nodes into another processor blowing overload.

His frame didn’t protest in the least as he climbed onto the berth, covering the trembling and smaller frame beneath his own. He groaned as his spike brushed over the brightly covered aft, once more begging to be buried in the tight valve but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt him. “Still with me, kid?” he asked with a murmur, leaning down to nuzzle his cheek ridge, listening as his vents struggled to cycle air.

“Ju… just… gimmie… a, klik…” Bumblebee panted softly, struggling to keep his systems online for just a little bit longer. He blinked when he felt a rumbling vibration at his backstrut and smiled, pushing back into the frame atop of him. “Told ya, wanted it…”

“You sure did,” he chuckled, running a servo along his side, feeling him arch into his touch. The old-turned-young mech sat up on his joints but before he could think of getting off the berth the yellow mech managed to roll onto his backplates, stabilizers spread wide and looped over his hips. His optics widen as he watched the way he reached down to rub at his valve, stroking the soft folds, teasing himself he swallowed thickly as a slender digit pushed its way inside and began thrusting, making such erotic sounds. “Bee-” Before he could ask him what he was doing his other servo came down and was stroking at his still fully pressurized spike, but this time his touch was mimicking what he had done earlier and he found himself arching into his touch, groaning aloud. “Bee—ngh!!”

“I learned from the best,” he whispered lowly and arched his hips up as he continued teasing himself, now thrusting two digits in and out of his valve. Oh it felt so good despite the slight sting, but it was worth it as he saw the way the medic was looking at him, the way his servos curled over his hips and pulled them up for a better view. “Don’t you wanna frag me, Ratch?” he pouted, gasping as he began spreading his digits inside, trying to prepare himself so he could take in that thick spike.

“… s-slag yeah…” he moaned lowly, kneading the hips roughly, pulling him closer the CMO slid a servo under one of those lean stabilizers, pushing it up until it was flush with the scout’s chassis. Having him hold it in place he gently pushed his own digits into the wet valve and began stroking at the nodes and wires, coaxing them to relax. It was such a hot sight, his cooling fans were screaming as they struggled to keep his temperature from rising but he was beyond caring. With two thick digits in he smirked and released a very small electrical burst from his magnetic generators. The sharp squeal of pleasure and the rush of hot lubricant coating his servo made him groan and buck into the servo.

“Again!!” Bee cried out, stroking the spike harder and faster, crying out again the medic obeyed. This was nothing like his own electrical current which gave him an idea. Channeling a small portion into his servos, he waited until his digits were squeezing the base and let it go. There was something incredibly hot about the way the medic froze, tensing sharply, calling out his designation as the charge hit. He also seemed to take that as a challenge as he began pumping his digits harder and faster, now having three of them inside and would release the burst at irregular intervals, making him cry out in pleasure. He did the same, clutching at his stabilizer but he could feel a familiar heat and pressure building, his HUD filled with warnings. “R-Ratch… f-frag me-e-e!” he paned heavily, tugging at his spike, guiding it to his valve even though it was already full with his thick digits. “Oh Primus—please!!”

“Pitt of a way to teach you to say please,” he growled lowly, removing his digits with a wet suction sound (shivering as the scout let out a static-filled cry) and allowed him to guide him to the soaking wet valve. As much as he wanted to thrust in and immediately begin moving he forced himself to go slowly, carefully, stroking the hips and pausing when the cables became too tight. “Relax kid, keep cycling air,” he whispered to him in a strained voice box, wincing as yellow digits dug into his plating. “Almost—there!”

“Oh f-f-frag! Fragging s-shit!!” he hissed and cried out, muttering a slew of cursing in both Cybertronium and English. Coolant gathered in his optics, threatening to fall but Bumblebee lifted is helm up as his lover leaned in to kiss them away, telling him to relax. He did, hesitantly but soon the entire spike was nestled deep inside; he released a shuddering gasp, vents hitching and frame trembling as being so full. “Primus… you’re… you’re slagging huge, Ratch!”

“All the better to feel your tight valve,” the red and white mech teased. He could feel his ego inflating; no doubt he was huge compared to the minibot but he knew Bumblebee was very sensitive about his size and didn’t dare bring it up. Carefully he lay down atop of him, wrapping his servos around him but processing the data for a moment he held him close and shifted so he was laying on his backplates, the yellow mech on top. Ratchet chuckled at the look of surprise on his scout’s faceplates and reached up with a servo to stroke the side of his helm, brushing over one of the small horns atop.

Bee couldn’t stop the soft purr vibrating in his chassis, leaning into the servo as it gently stroked his horn. They were also sensitive but he remembered when Ratchet used to hit him he never hit him where they were located; in fact, he made sure to avoid them altogether. Slowly he pushed himself up so he was straddling the broad waist, servos resting on his abdominal plating. His cooling system was running hard and he shivered as he felt the thick frame beneath him vibrate. Locking optics with him he slowly, oh so slowly pulled himself up, feeling his valve tightened around the thick spike, trying to keep him in until he reached the tip, then quickly slid down, crying out as ridges rubbed against the untouched nodes. Once more his sensory network was red-lining but he didn’t care as he continued to slow pace, feeling any stinging pain being chased away by the incredible pleasure. He nuzzled the servo fondly, licking at a digit as it traced his bottom lip component, moaning lowly.

Once more the CMO’s processor was capturing image after image, filing them away to be reviewed at his leisure. There was something about the minibot as he continued to ride his spike, enjoying the way his valve’s tight cables closed around him and tightened as he lifted himself up, the way his nodes trembled as he slid back down, especially the way his hips would grind down on him before moving up once more. With one servo settled on his hip the other continued tracing his lip component, watching and shivering as his glossia licked at the digit, teasing the highly sensitive sensors there. His vents stalled as his scout (that sent a pleasurable thrill through him. _His scout_ ) took the digit into his oral intake and began sucking. Part of him wished it was his spike he was sucking on but he too far gone into the pleasure to complain. Growling softly the medic once more planted his peds firmly on the berth and waited, watching as the scout lifted himself up and just as he was coming down bucked his hips up, driving his spike harder inside and jostling the mech atop him. The staticy cry was the sweetest form of music to his audios, and he longed to hear it again.

“R-Ratch! Again!” Bee cried out, lifting himself up and dropping he cried out louder as his medic did as he ordered, burying his spike deeper than before and roughly stroking his nodes. He tried to keep the pace slow, to draw out the pleasure, but he also wanted the medic to frag him senseless, to feel his spike stretch his valve wide open, to have his steaming hot transfluid fill his tanks and then feel his glossia lick him clean. He wanted it harder, faster, and oh sweet Primus, _deeper!_ He gasped and arched his backstrut as large servos grasped his waist tightly, now slamming him down on the straining spike, whimpering as their pelvic armor grinded against each other, sparks flying with each thrust. He gripped the back of the red and white servos tightly, digging digits into plating, unintentionally pulling at wires, but he was vaguely aware that he was babbling in between spurts of static. The other words he could make out was “Ratch” and “more”. No doubt he sounded like some kind of pleasure drone but he didn’t care about that.

Ratchet grunted as his hips continued bucking into the delicious wet heat that was his scout’s valve, sending small bursts of his magnetic charge into the frame and enjoying the way he cried out, tightening even more around him. The old medic didn’t think he could go this long but his frame was still going strong, his pistons steadily keeping up the pace. Sending another charge he smirked and growled aloud as the minibot screamed his designation, arching his backstrut as he trembled above him, overloading so much it coated his pelvic region. He couldn’t help but overload deep inside the compact frame, shuddering as he felt their fluids mix and mingle. Oh his scout felt so good, the way he trembled in his grip, the blissed out look on his faceplates, he was even leaking some oral fluids as he leaned down and kissed him messily, glossias tangling together. The minibot was such a tease, and despite having gone through two overloads he was still begging for more, rubbing against him, his slightly charged servos eagerly roaming his frame, making him growl and arch into his touch.

“Scrap, Bee… gonna mak’ me o’erload ‘gain,” he growled roughly, shifting his servos to his pert aft, roughly grinding their hips together, ignoring the rush of hot fluids as they dripped onto the berth.

“Yes… gimme fluids, want it all,” he panted heavily, optics so dark a blue that were nearly black. The wet sounds the thick spike made as it shifted in his overly full valve made him flush brightly, but even more so as every time he shifted more fluids dribble out despite the tight seal they made together. Reaching up he cradled the medic’s helm in his servos, leaning up and pressed a soft kiss to the sensitive chevron, on his cheek ridges, and then on the stunned derma plating. “Please Ratch… my grumpy medbot… give it to me…” he whispered.

“B-Bee… my, annoying scout… my, pleasurable minibot…” he whispered back, pulling him for a kiss, taking a brief klik to rub at the small horns, listening to him purr loudly but hearing him beg for his transfluid, wanting everything he had to offer. The medic didn’t think he had any more in him to continue, and yet his spike had refused to go down and was eager to frag the living spark from the yellow mech until neither of them could move. His spark continued to hum rapidly in his chassis ad normally, he would have been worried that it wasn’t slowing down but once more his logic circuitry was silence.

The white and red medical bot groaned lowly as he carefully sat up, lifting the condensation soaked lithe frame off his lap was a bit of a challenge as the no longer sealed valve tried keeping him in. Moving slowly he deposited the scout onto his berth once more and swallowed thickly as he watched the silvery fluids flow past the swollen folds, forming a thick puddle on the berthtop. Steady servos reached out and stroked still trembling stabilizers, kneading them firmly as they slid up, murmuring gentle words as the smaller mech whimpered and shifted in clear discomfort. They continued to move up until he was close enough to oh so gently pull the folds open, finally noticing the slight trace of energon among their mixed fluids. Immediately his medical programming tried to push forward, to tend to injury he had caused with his carelessness; he hadn’t meant to hurt the scout and had braced himself In case he told him to stop but the rejection never came. He looked up from his inspection, unsure what to say but he taken completely by surprise as he was tackled, falling flat on his backstruts on the floor as a compact bright yellow frame moved atop of him. Optics widen, cheek ridges flushed brightly as he stared at a swollen valve leaking over his chassis and servos eagerly stroking at his spike. He tried to ask what the scout though he was doing but cried out in pleasure as he felt that familiar electrical charge centered around the base of his spike, making his hips buck up for more attention.

“Don’t stop,” the scout panted as he continued to knead the base of his spike, allowing the current to flow through him. He used the other to bend the flexible cable towards him and lavished it with his glossia, moaning at his taste. His frame felt too hot and tight, his spark vibrating so hard it felt like it was going to burst free from his chassis. There was little to no discomfort but he didn’t care as he eagerly licked the transfluid clean before taking the tip between his derma plating, sucking hard and fast.

For a moment the medic though he had crashed, everything had shut down except for the sensors in his spike but that wasn’t true. His sensory network was running so high it was overriding everything else. His hips bucked up into the warm oral cavity, trembling as the slick glossia licked and sucked him clean but the almost sweet aroma of the scout’s valve drew his attention that he reached up, grasping the hips firmly, pulling them closer and began lapping at the swollen folds, licking away the fluids. Bumblebee whimpered as he begged for more, sending a stronger charge into his spike, making Ratchet growl and press his derma plating flush against the folds and pushed his glossia inside as deeply as he could, flicking against still sensitive nodes, licking at tense cables and eagerly swallowing the oily fluids from the source. The two were eager to bring the other to another intense overload, satisfying their primitive directives to interface, to quell the scorching heat coursing inside them. The medic gave up on processing the data and lost himself in the pleasure. The last thing he remembered was suddenly sitting up, both he and his scout on their joints, ordering him to hold onto the bottom edge of the berth before pushing his heavily pressurized spike back into the dripping valve. Both moaned lowly as he leaned over him, curling a servo around a slender hip the other reached out and pinned a yellow servo to the berth, white digits slipping between yellow and squeezing tightly. There was a brief klik of adjustment before he pulled out until only the tip of his cable was in then pushed right back in, setting up a deeply penetrating pace, growling with each forceful thrust.

Bumblebee felt like his processor was melting from the intense heat, unable to form words as he eagerly pushed back into the older mech, enjoying the feel of his spike as it speared him open once more. The pace was rough and deep, making him cry out but his voice box couldn’t handle the stress anymore, having given out earlier but it didn’t stop him from trying to voice out his pleasure. He leaned forward, bowing his helm he purred as he felt the medic lean over him, feeling his chassis press into his backplates and trembled as he felt his own vibrations pulsing into him. He made to reach down and rub at his valve, wanting to feel the way forcing its way in and out but his servo was caught and like its twin it was pinned to the berth, a low, vibrating growl echoed in his audio as the pace began to move harder and faster, the sound of plating striking against one another. Whimpering the scout wordlessly spread his stabilizers as far as he could and welcomed the incredible pleasure coursing through him.

Ratchet had never felt like this before, considering himself a professional in the fields of medical mechanics, and never would he even allow a single line of data of interfacing with a patient be allowed to cross his processor, and yet now fragging the minibot was all he could think about. He didn’t register it was him growling possessively as his spike continued to pound into the clenching valve he had caged within his arms, that his own voice box was whispering into the yellow audio about how good he looked bent over in the living room, that he had enjoyed taking his seal and brought him his first overload, how delicious his fluids tasted, how good it had felt when he sucked him. Never in a million vorns would he had ever said such things! And yet the smaller frame pressed into him harder, whimpers turning into strained bursts of static from a burnt out voice box, the amount of fluids dripping to the floor beneath them, it was too much even for his AllSpark induced frame to take and slamming in as deeply as he could, the CMO released a magnetic charge, anchoring himself inside his scout and shouted loud enough to fry his own voice box as every drop of transfluid he currently held emptied himself into the supple valve and the tanks deep inside. Beneath him the scout stiffened and cried out in a sharp burst of static couldn’t take the painful pressure and followed his lover into another intense, processor-blowing overload for a third time, his frame trembling as he squeezed at the servos still holding his as tightly as he could. Systems froze, halting all movements for a few blessed kliks before they couldn’t take it anymore and crashed. Frames went limp and both fell to the floor with a loud crash, both mechs knowing nothing but blessed darkness.

* * *

There was an annoying beeping sound that refused to be silenced no matter what Ratchet did. Apparently his fuel levels were low and required immediate refueling or emergency actions would be taken. But he did not want to get up and wouldn’t get up even if the Pitt-spawn Megatron himself was right here, demanding for their meager AllSpark fragments to be handed over. He grumbled something very crude and rude under his vents as he pulled the warm frame closer to him, feeling the pleasant vibrations pulse nicely-

Wait. What vibrations? What warm frame??

Somewhere in the back of his processor, he felt a nagging piece of data biding its time, waiting to pop up and say “Told ya so!” followed by a small amount of regret. The problem was, he could not remember what the slag he did to warrant such a feeling! He tried to move his servos, online his optics, something but his systems were completely down and still had less than a breem before they came back online.

_‘There’s must be something in my memory banks to told me how I fragged up,’_ he thought and pulled up his most recent back up. There was nothing unusual there so he moved on, fast-forwarding through bits of data. He paused when he remembered tending to Bumblebee when the alarm went off, followed by chasing the annoying scout out to the scrap yard. He then remembered a fight and being thrown in the air and landing on something that exploded.

_‘That’s right… I landed on a fragment.’_ Now he remembered waking up joors later only to find himself much younger than before! He fast-forward through more memory clips, most of trivia but halted when he came across several images that made the energon in his cable freeze than rush rapidly. There were images of the scout on his berth, stabilizers being held open with his own servos, soft gray folds slick as drops of fresh lubricant dripped freely. More images, this time of the yellow scout sitting atop of him, this time he own spike buried into the lush valve, dark blue optics loving down at him with the look of being overcharged clear, sucking one of his digits between his derma plating. he wanted to protest this wasn’t real but the images were all taken by him. He quickly rushed through them and came to a video file and hesitantly, opened it up. Even offline he swore he could feel his optics widening and mouth plates falling open as he watched from his point-of-view as he licked and suckled at the swollen, dripping folds of a delicious valve above him, his sensors tingling as he felt eager servos much smaller than his own and a hungry glossia playing with his spike. He could feel his system heating up as he continued watching, of him then takin the scout from behind, trapping him beneath him, growling such lewd comments into his audio, feel him tightening around him as he reached overload-!

**Systems fully operational.**

_‘Slag!!’_ He forced his spark to stop racing in his chassis and took several kliks to calm down. Part of him wanted to immediately jerk away from the warm frame he now knew was Bumblebee, to deny this ever happening, but as annoying as the minibot was he couldn’t hurt him. Slowly he onlined his optics and opened them. Everything was pixelated but he waited as they adjusted and settled. The medic looked around, seeing they were still laying on the floor of his berthroom and judging by the shadows on the walls it was well into night. Ignoring the comment about whether or not the rest of the team was aware of what he had done he looked down and found that he had both servos wrapped tightly around the yellow scout and he had curled up around him while they were down. He found himself wanted to nuzzled the small horns atop his helm, to stroke the bright plating but held back. He ran a quick scan to discover that his spike had withdrew into its housing but neither of their protective panels had slid close and there was evidence of dried fluids between both of them as well as on the floor and more dripping from his berth. In fact, his entire berthroom smelled like stale ‘facing. So why the frag was it making his systems rumble in possessive pride?

_‘I really scrapped myself,’_ he thought and lifted a servo up to rub at his tired optics but froze when he noticed something. His servo wasn’t looking quite as young as it used to, in fact he could now make out several stress marks and wear along the plating that had not been there before. He made to bring up his other servo to compare but a yellow and black was holding onto it and refused to let go. The CMO once more ran a scan over himself and realized, he was slowly getting older with each astrosecond that passed. He was very slowly, reverting back to his true age. He would have been happy with it, but… what about his scout? Would, would he even want an old bot like him anymore? Or had he been attracted to his younger frame?

Bee did not want to get up, he hadn’t feel such a good recharge like that in stellar cycles! But his systems ignored his commands and booted up one by one. He pressed into the warm frame behind him, squeezing the servo tightly, rubbing his stabilizers together as the dried fluids were making his plating itch something fierce.

_‘Wait. What?’_ Why was he curled up against a frame and why was there fluids between his stabilizers? And why was his panel open? He wanted to panic and comm for help but a nervous field was pressing into his and he found himself relaxing immediately when he recognized it as Ratchet’s. _‘It’s only docbot-‘_

Oh.

Oh!

_Oh Primus…_ he didn’t—no, wait. He did. Three. Fragging. Times. And yet, while his systems tingled as he slowly roused himself completely from recharge he found he wasn’t disappointed, upset, or shamed. He felt—well, he felt slagging great! Better than great! Ow. Well, not better than great but pretty close to it! He felt eh medic shift, the servo clenched in his own sliding free only to help him up. He tried standing on his own but his stabilizers refused to bear his weight and he nearly crashed to the floor but found himself being lifted and set on a berth.

“Give it a klik,” Ratchet said, wincing at how rough and ragged his voice box sounded. Nothing his self-repair couldn’t handle but it would take time. He watched as sky blue optics came online and looked up at him. He was stunned when he found no negative emotions directed at him and his EM field was welcoming and reaching out towards him. He held back and tried to take on an air of professionalism. “How do you feel, kid?”

Kid? Why was he calling him a kid? He was no kid! Bumblebee made to yell at him but clamped his servos over his derma when all he could manage was a struggled burst of static. His servos moved to his throat but allowed them to be removed as the medic leaned in.

“Lemme have a look…” His servos were gentle as he examined the cables, not noticing any external injuries but another more focused scan revealed the problem. “You blew out your voice box completely, frying the circuit board in the process,” he explained as he leaned back. “I have a spare one somewhere but you can’t talk until then.” He reached out to pat a joint only to flinch and pull his stabilizer back. He could see the hurt look in his optics and knew he had to deal with this now or else. “Kid-”

_::Don’t you dare say what I think you’re gonna say!::_ came a sharp tone over the comm link, startling the medic as he took him a klik to realize it was coming from the scout. _::I remember what happened last night, and I know you do too. So don’t you dare thing about lying.::_

Huh. The kid has some ball bearings on him afterall. “I remember. But I’m a medic first and I shouldn’t have done it.”

_::Screw that! If you really wanted to stop you could’ve!::_ servos gripped the edge of the berth, optics looking at the white and red mech heatedly before cooling, frame relaxing as the scout lifted a servo and took a limp one into his own, pulling the tense mech closer. _::Ratch… please, don’t push me away. I wanted it, I wanted you to take my seal.::_

“… Bee…” he wanted to believe him, to know that he was telling the truth, but his professional pride was telling him to end it right now. He stiffened as he felt servos pull him closer, dimly realizing he was standing between spread stabilizers and pulled down until he realized he was being kissed by the yellow mech. This kiss wasn’t one of longing passionate, a primal desire to be fragged senseless. This one was of gentle persuasion, a desire to love and be loved in return, a need to be accepted and treasured. He answered it without processing it, answering back with a need of his own, a refuge in these warring times that never seemed to end, a sign of hope that things would get better eventually. After almost a full breem of kissing the two mech broke apart but didn’t pull away from the other, forehelms resting against one another.

“Bee… I… the energy of the fragment, its…” he tried to tell him but the scout presse another kiss to his derma, reaching out to tracing a seam that was beginning to show wear.

_::Didn’t anybot tell you it’s the personality circuitry that counts and not the plating?::_ he teased, wrapping his servos around his neck cables and pulling him even closer as he felt his valve begin to throb. _::’Sides, with how old you are bet there’s a lot of things you can show me.::_

“Annoying little glitch,” the medic growled, gently pushing the scout back on the berth, climbing atop of him. “’Bout time somebot taught you a lesson. And since I’m the one bot around, looks like it’s up to me.” Once more he caught those warm lip plates with his own, glossias sliding against one another he pressed their hips together, servos reaching out to rediscover sensitive seams. The CMO could always clean up later, and get his bright scout to help him out, whether he liked it or not.

**Author’s Notes:** And the request for tfamonk has been completed! I meant to finish and post this for a while, but I wasn’t sure how to go and then I didn’t like how I was writing it so after ~~waking from a nightmare~~ finding out I can’t sleep anymore I decided to try and finish.

tfamonk, I really hope you enjoyed this. I admit, I did laugh a bit when I wrote about Ratchet landing on the AllSpark fragment, shattering it and absorbing the magical energies from it. It’s funny! Maybe not so funny to the docbot but still! I think I made Bee a bit more slutty in this chapter but isn’t that the point of these series? To see our adorably fav yellow minibot getting it fragged? (innocent smile)

Until next time, fellow readers and writers! Ja ne! (waves) Now to try and finish the next chapter of ‘Nightmare’!

_Next up: Longarm/ShockwavexBumblebee_ (which I am surprising excited for)


	10. LongarmxShockwavexBumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bumblebee trusted him, told him he loved him, but it had all been a lie; Longarm wasn’t even his real designation. He managed to put it behind him and finally made his dream come true, but now Shockwave has returned and with him, so have Bee’s feelings and emotions.

**Disclaimer:** Transformers: Animated and everything related belongs to the rightful company Hasbro. I am in no way shape or form making money off this.

**Author’s Notes:** Bumblebee trusted him, told him he loved him, but it had all been a lie; Longarm wasn’t even his real designation. He managed to put it behind him and finally made his dream come true, but now Shockwave has returned and with him, so have Bee’s feelings and emotions.

Title: For Love

Pairing: Longarm/ShockwavexBumblebee (Animated)

Requested: star (AO3)

_It had been a long day of training and the minibot just wanted to forget about today. It didn’t help that Wasp and Ironhide continued to tease the living slag out of him. He scowled as he tried rubbing at the dried paint from the fake grenade they had lobbed at him when he wasn’t looking but at this rate it would take forever to flake off._

_‘Time to hit the solvent showers,’ he vented to himself. If he was quick enough he could get cleaned up and out before anyone came by. Looking around he went to the far wall where his favorite stall was since it had the best pressure out of all of them. Stepping in he sighed as the sensors picked up his signature and began releasing the thick fluids. It came out heated but he they were all set up on a timer so there was enough hot solvent to go around for all trainees. Taking his scrubbing tool from his sub-space he began working on the internal joints, shifting around to make sure he could get them all clean then work on his plating. He failed to realize another bot had entered or had entered the stall until he backed up and froze at the feel of another frame behind him._

_“Getting all cleaned up?” the mech asked as he held a cleansing cloth under the spray of solvent._

_“Longarm! Fragger, you nearly gave me a spark attack!” he scowled up at him. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”_

_“Cleaning up, same as you,” he said simply, turning the smaller mech around so he was facing the wall and began rubbing the soaked cloth along his back plating. He chuckled when the yellow mech tried to protest but he pushed him closer to the wall and leaned over to whisper into his audio receiver, “Nothing wrong with helping another mech get cleaned.”_

_“L-Longarrrmm…” Bee moaned softly and leaned into the wall, purring softly as he felt the soft cloth rubbed into his plating, washing away the grime. Had anyone looked in they probably wouldn’t be able to see him since the other mech was bigger, but he had a point. There was nothing wrong with one mech helping another out with places one couldn’t reach. He went back to scrubbing at his joints, carefully working the soft bristles along the seams, but then he gasped as he felt the cloth moving lower, now purposely stroking the seams around his hips and aft. “H-Hey-!”_

_“Just relax, there’s no one here besides us,” he whispered into his audio, reaching out with his servo to brace his own mass against the wall as the other servo continued tracing the seams, feeling the plating grow warmer. Oh his little mech was quite a sight, getting revved up by his touch alone; and the best part, this mech was all his. He slipped the soft cloth down between his stabilizers and smirked at the soft whimper of want._

_Slagger, he always did this. And like a glitch he fell for it but it was just too good! Yellow digits scrambled for purchase on the slick tiles, bowing his helm he focused on the pleasure he was feeling, panting softly he locked his stabilizers in place so he didn’t fall. Now he could feel the other mech pressing into him, his chassis touching his back plates, a servo curled around his waist, a cloth covered digit stroking along a very sensitive seam Bumblebee couldn’t help but let out a low whimper as his panel slid open. His faceplates burned brightly with a blush and he glared at the recruit over his shoulder when he picked up his amused chuckle._

_“S’not funny! And it’s your fault!” he snapped, reaching down to push the offending servo away but he froze and chocked back a moan as the solvent soaked cloth brushed over his equipment with the lightest of touches._

_“Maybe, I should fix it,” Longarm murmured and proceeded to do so, alternating his touch between the spike housing and the pliable valve with the cleaning cloth, keeping his touch incredibly light. He was enjoying this, feeling the small yellow hips shifting, the way his frame trembled, delicate whimpers and moans only he could hear. The sounds from the solvent shower easily drowned them out so no one would come to investigate but his own frame was heating up, fans kicking on with a low hum as a result. His optics dimmed as he watched the tip of the spike begin to emerge but he purposely pulled back, swallowing back his own moan as the slender hips tried to arch into him._

_“L-Longa-arm… pleaasssse…” Bee begged softly, his spike aching for more but when he tried to reach down to stroke himself his servos were caught and gently pinned to the slick wall; he could feel his stabilizers trembling despite being locked._

_“Hmmm? Did you say something?” the grayish mech hummed, resting his other servo on a hip, holding it still as a digit rubbed small circles into the heated plating._

_“S-Stop being a fra-fragger, you know what I-ahh!-what I want!” the yellow mech hissed, trembling harder as the digit slipped between plates and trailed ghostly touches along the wires and cables he could reach._

_“Maybe if you ask nicely and just explained what you wanted, I might give it to you,” he said into his receiver, brushing his derma plating against it and kissing a trail up where he flicked his glossia against the small horn. The sharp cry the mech let out made him groan and he pressed into the lithe frame more intimately. “C’mon Bee… I know you want it, don’t deny it.”_

_He still wanted to argue he wasn’t denying anything, that he wasn’t the one being a selfish slagger, but his spike was aching something fierce and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take. “Primus Longarm… w-wanna feel your-uuh-servo, on my s-spi… spike,” the elite guard trainee begged, biting down on his bottom derma hard enough to feel the sharp sting of pain but it was nothing compared to the painful pressure that was building inside. “Pl-Pleaaassssee!”_

_“Now was that so hard?” He chuckled at the dark look thrown at him but it was rapidly replaced with relief as he dropped the cloth and began using his own digits to trace the spike’s housing, coaxing it out. It didn’t take much for it to completely pressurize but he still took his time in admiring the slick cable. He trailed his palm down the length of it then moved to the underside, gently tracing the sides then rubbed at the tip, enjoying the whimper of desperation. He kept stroking and teasing it for several more kliks before lifting his servo up. “It appears I got some transfluid on my servo,” he mused and trailed his servo up the heated frame, tracing cables as he felt the energon racing and tilted the helm back, able to look down at the softly panting minibot. “Will you help me clean it?” he asked deeply._

_Bumblebee looked up at him with dim optics, once more taken back how much taller the other mech was but it sent a delicious thrill through his system. He wanted to moan his designation, to beg for more, but instead he parted his derma and allowed the digits to slip inside. He moaned as he tasted himself on those skilled digits, sucking them clean one by one he tilted his helm and swiped his glossia along the palm, licking it clean as well. Looking up he saw optics stare down into his, still bright save for the crimson marking on his forehelm that seemed to shine brightly. He wanted to ask him but instead he mewled sharply as he felt something hot and firm pressing against him, his cooling fans kicking up several notches._

_He couldn’t help it, the minibot looked so enticing and the feel of his slick glossia against the thin plating was so good, but it was the look he gave him that was his undoing. The off gray panel immediately slid open, his spike springing out to its full length, nestled between those slender stabilizers, arching up into the dripping wet heat. He groaned as the yellow hips began moving, the mesh plating caressing his spike, coating it with steaming hot lubricate, listening to the eager mewling sounds growing louder. He released his servo to push a digit into his mouth, pressing down on the slick glossia. His other servo slid over the hip and this time, wrapped completely around the spike and began to firmly stroke it, rocking his hips and forcing him to move along. His optics closed as he listened to the erotic sounds the minibot made, lost himself in the feeling of his scorching hot valve rubbing against him, even the scent of the solvent did nothing to mask his sweet, enticing scent._

_“Bumblebee… my sweet, little bumbler… is this what you wanted?” Longarm asked, squeezing the spike firmly as he stroked down, rubbing a digit over the tip as his hips pulled back. Then he pressed forward at the same time he slid his servo back to the base of the spike, smearing the silvery white fluids._

_Bee couldn’t answer him, oh he tried but with the digit pressing down on his glossia, keeping his lip plates open, he couldn’t speak but he moaned and keened softly. His digits dug into the slick wall before him, sliding his peds closer together he rubbed against the spike rubbing against his bared valve. It wasn’t entering him but the throbbing ache was growing more and more intense. He tried to tell him more, to stroke him harder, faster, but since he couldn’t speak he instead closed his stabilizers, trembling at the friction he was now causing to the thrusting spike. And it had the desired effect as he found himself pressed into the wall a bit roughly, servos roughly sliding from his hips down the outside of his stabilizers and back up._

_“Lon… longa-aahhh!” he cried out as the spike began thrusting faster and changing the angle so the tip of the dark-colored spike was nudging the mesh opening of his valve._

_“This is what you wanted, Bee. Don’t fight it,” the mech rumbled deeply, sliding his servos down he squeezed the stabilizers even tighter together, eagerly thrusting his spike between them. The feel of the hot lubricant made it so slick, he grunted with each thrust, clenching his denta together so tightly but it was worth it as the smaller mech was crying out his designation, begging for more._

_“Long… Longarm… o-oh Primus! Aahhh!” Bee cried out, panting and whimpering as pleasure racked his system. Yes, he wanted him, to finish what he started, to take him completely, to bring him to a processor-blowing overload. His servo shook as he reached down and grabbed the much larger one, pulling it between him and the wall, keening sharping as he wrapped the strong digits around his spike and arched into it as it stroked harder and faster. Yes, yes yes there! Almost there! Almost ther-!_

***BEEP BEEP BEEP*** “Incoming message from Sentinel Magnus.” ***BEEP BEEP BEEP***

Bright blue optics shot open, processor still caught in the mist of the dream he swore he could still feel the other mech pressed against his backplates, the feel of his servos dancing along his plating, the smell of solvent mixed with their combined fluids-

Wait. Fluids? He pulled back the berth sheet and let out a long string of curses as he registered that not only had his panel slid open while he was recharging, his spike was fully pressurized and leaked so much transfluid, but his valve had also been leaking so he was laying in a small puddle of his own fluids. “Just fragging perfect,” he muttered lowly and looking at his servos found them covered in the same fluids. He vented angrily as he used the same berth sheet to roughly clean it up.

***BEEP BEEP BEEP*** “Incoming message from Sentinel Magnus.” ***BEEP BEEP BEEP***

“Hold on a klik!!” he snapped and used the stained sheet to clean himself up but with his spike still pressurized there was no way he would be able to close to the panel. Instead he covered the mess with the sheet and sat behind his communication console. Making sure nothing could be seen below his chassis he accepted the incoming message. “Sentinel Magnus, sir. This is a surprise,” he greeted as soon as the image of Cybertron’s newest magnus filled the small screen.

“That’s sir to you, but at least you remembered my title this time,” he smirked but it quickly morphed into a frown. “What took you so long to answer?? You’re part of the Elite Guard. MY Elite Guard and when I say jump you do so until I’m satisfied-!!” he began to rant but stopped when he noticed the messy berth. “… how many times do I have to remind you mechs to keep your quarters in tip top shape! Primus, didn’t you learn anything from your time at boot camp?!”

“Sorry, sir. Was there something you needed?” Bee asked, forcing himself to remain calm even though he really wanted to tell the planet-sized glitch to frag off.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah! There’s been rumors that there’s a Decepticon running around and none of the other Elite Guards have been able to track him down. Where did I put that file…” the magnus muttered as he looked around his desk and pushed away from his screen only to reveal his own quarters were a much bigger mess than Bumblebee’s. It looked like, what was the term Sari used? Oh yeah! Like a hurricane blew right through.

_‘How does he call my room messy?’_ he asked, glancing around his room but everything was put away save for a data pad he had been reading before he drifted to recharge and the mess on his berth. He snapped back to attention as Sentinel sat back at his desk.

“There it is! The rumors were vague at first until a witness managed to give a description of said ‘Con. This mech seem familiar?” He sent the image and Bumblebee swore he felt the energon freeze in his cables, his spark giving a painful thump deep in his chassis.

“… Shockwave…”

“One of the most loyal and cunning Decepticons to megatron, also the one that took down Ultra magnus, Primus bless his spark,” he muttered under his vents. “I want you to check out the places he’s been sotted, see what you can find out-”

“Sentinel, sir, why are you telling me this? Can’t you send our other Elite Guards to find him? I mean Megatron is in Trypticon Prison as are most of his lieutenants, Starscream’s permanently offlined, and the AllSpark is back when it belongs,” the yellow guardsmech interrupted, ignoring the wince of emotional pain it brought. True they had won the war, but it was a heavy price he wish could have been avoided. “The Decepticons are gone, what would he gain from all of this?”

“… … … Listen closely, Bumbler. **I** am the Magnus. **I** am the leader of the Cybertron Elite Guard. **I** am the Supreme Commander of the Autobots. Do you know what that means?” he asked in an eerie calm, icy tone.

“… yeah.”

“What was that?”

Sucking in air hard enough for his vents to rattle Bee forced the words out no matter how bitter it tasted. “… it means, you say jump and I do so until you’re satisfied. Sentinel Magnus—sir.”

“That’s what I thought. Go to those sightings, find out anything you can, and if by some miracle you actually find him, bring him in to face Autobot justice.”

Bumblebee opened his lip plates to say something but the communication was cut short. The yellow mech stared at the blank screen for a solid breem before releasing the air he had unintentionally trapped in his system. It came out harsh, rattling his frame as he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk even as he buried his faceplates in his servos. Shockwave was still alive. He was somewhere out there, doing something. He was the only Decepticon running around free while everyone else was in prison. He was—is currently the most wanted mech on all of Cybertron. He was also the only mech Bee fell in love with, back when he attended boot camp under a dead mech’s stolen designation, and had even gone so far as to offered himself to.

A powerful swirl of emotions hit him hard, making him cringe. He couldn’t help but let out a painful keen and pushed his chair back from his desk. His spike was still throbbing as he watched a thick drop of transfluid build at the tip before slowly rolling down the underside to his valve where it mingled and dripped to the seat of his chair.

“… frag him, that slagger,” he muttered as he slowly stood. He moved into his small attached wash rack that was attached to his quarters. It was small really, having just the necessities needed to clean and maintain his armor plating. The lights came on automatically, but he seemed to be moving as though he was going through a preprogrammed routine. He stepped into the enclosed stall, the solvent starting up as soon as it registered his presence. For several kliks he just stood there, letting the warm solvent wash over him. It felt good, having his own quarters with a wash room to clean up, even his own ship (certainly much smaller than the one he used to share with his old team) but it was his. Which mean he could do whatever he wanted and not have to worry about anyone walking in on him. Shuddering his optics he leaned forward, bracing his servos on the wall he groaned softly as the solvent rained down on his backplates, slipping into seams to get at his protoform underneath but as he opened his optics he saw that his spike was still pressurized. He stared at it as though seeing it for the first time even as his servo slowly came down and trailed digits along the length. It was his own servo but he didn’t see his yellow digits, he saw them as off-white and much larger.

_“This is what you wanted, Bee. Don’t fight it.”_

_‘You knew I wanted it, you fragger…’_ he growled lowly as he played the old memory file. He was dimly aware that he had dreaming about the last time they had been together, how the Decepticon spy had begun touching him under the pretense of helping him clean up only to get him into opening his panel, how he had teased him until his spike became fully pressurized then stroked him. He also remembered the way his own spike had emerged and how he was soon finding himself pinned to the slick, solvent covered wall as the spike rubbed at his bared equipment. The memory had been real alright and he found himself now leaning against the wall as he worked his servo over his spike faster, soft grunts escaping his clenched denta but he also had one of his peds pressed against the opposite wall, his cries muffled as the pressure of the solvent struck his throbbing valve. He told himself he wasn’t going to touch it, that self-servicing his spike would be enough but his other servo came down and he was soon crying out as he rubbed his digits in the slit of his valve, roughly teasing and stroking his anterior node until his system couldn’t take it anymore and he overloaded in a hot rush of fluids. His servos didn’t stop their rough caresses, riding out the pleasure as he processor went through a short reset. When his optics onlined he was surprised to see that he had managed to remained standing and his spike had pulled back into its housing but his other servo was still rubbing at his valve. He reluctantly pulled away and he forced himself not to look down even as he dried himself off and managed to get the panel to close. As he went back into his room he saw he had a new message from the Magnus but didn’t open it.

_‘Gotta be the reports,’_ he thought even as he picked up a cloth and wiped down his berth and chair. He would have to wash the berth sheet later but he stared at the stain and it brought back memories of him. Or rather, when he knew him as Longarm.

Longarm was a jerk at first, thinking he was better than him, all the recruits did, but something changed and he started paying more attention to him, was acting nicer. Bee thought he was trying to lure him into some sort of prank but it never came. Then one day he pulled him behind some empty crates in the storage warehouse and kissed him. The mech had been the minibot’s first kiss. After that things changed and while he never came out and said it, he began treating him differently even in front of the others. He didn’t call him names, didn’t insult him, he even told Ironhide and Wasp to stop a few times. He was finding himself falling for the larger mech to the point where he let him take his seal over his spike.

It had felt good, the way he touched and kissed him, getting him all heated up, then he watched as he licked at the seal repeatedly, finding it hard to cycle air at the sight. He could feel something pushing from the other side, becoming so uncomfortable it was starting to hurt but the other mech assured him it would feel so good. He hadn’t lied about that, at least.

_‘Stop that! He was just using me to keep his cover up. He didn’t care about anyone or anything,’_ he mused darkly and read over the reports. Mechs all over Cybertron had reported seeing a mysterious mech wandering around, one that clearly did not want to be seen but there had been an incident at some bar where the mech in question had gotten in a brawl with some other mechs. That’s when the witnesses recognized him as Shockwave but he was long gone before the Autotroopers arrived. After that mechs and femmes would see glimpses of him but those weren’t very accurate but Bumblebee uploaded the reports onto a data pad before placing it in his subspace. Looks like his boring space patrol was being called short. _‘Next stop: Cybertron.’_

* * *

The yellow Elite Guard checked every place the reports indicated, even those that seemed highly unlikely and spoke to bots in the area. In the brighter lit cityscapes as soon as the populace saw the red insignia on his chassis, they were more than happy to help (even if he had to deal with everyone asking if he knew the great Sentinel magnus and what he was really like). So far there was nothing of help but as he moved deeper into the less populated cityscapes he found bots less inclined to answer his questions. His bright plating already made them suspicious but once they saw the symbol he bore they made themselves scarce. In the past he would have gotten mad and easily frustration but instead he went back to his ship and made some touch ups to his frame. He dulled the color so it seemed faded and dingy, even made some superficial scratches, some dents and minor damage, even disguising anything that would have made him recognizable. Next, he hid the barred wings that identified him a part of the Elite Guard and made the Autobot insignia faded, even slightly clipped. Taking a look at him he smirked. He looked like an Autobot that had been dealt a bad servo and was struggling to find a place in this new reform. Sad to say even Autobots who were never interested in the war were forced to suffer, especially if they chose to disobey the new rulings and no one seemed to care so with his small frame, he would most likely be overlooked. It was the perfect cover up.

_‘I just better be careful and watch my derma plating,’_ he told himself. Making certain he had only a servo full of creds he left his ship but not before activating the cloaking and headed for the slums.

Everything was the vast opposite of Iacon: dark, poorly lit, dingy, broken down, even rusted. There weren’t many bots out but those he saw were in worse shape than himself and some looked waaay older than he suspected them to be. He even saw some of them wearing plating that he knew was nothing short of being decorative. He didn’t dare stray down that path. He didn’t think he would get answers if he began asking questions, nor did he want to bring any attention to himself. Instead he looked around, trying to mimic what others were doing before he paused outside a building. There was no brightly lit neon sign stating what it was but the scent of oil and high-grade said it all. He wordlessly entered and found that the inside looked as broken down as the outside and there were even less bots inside but he noted that some were either slumped over their tables or tucked away in the darkest corner they could find. It made his spark clench even as he made his way to the bar and took a seat that didn’t look ready to give way.

A surly looking femme noticed him and slowly made her way over, setting a chipped glass on the bar before him. “Whadda ya want?” she demanded with a narrowed optic. A series of badly welded marks scored down the right side of her faceplates, the optic completely gone with a slightly large metal patch in its place. In fact, her entire frame was covered in a series of scratches, dents, broken but many deeper marks that looked like they were never repaired properly.

“Cheapest oil you have,” Bee said as he dropped a few creds onto the bar top. The femme wasted no time in grabbing at them, her digits scratching as the already scuffed surface. Her digits were slightly blunted from obvious and continuous use but as she turned her backplates to him he saw she was a seeker. Or rather _had_ been a seeker. Wings were just as scuffed as the rest of her frame, scratched and even dented, but what made him stare was that she only had _one_ wing as opposed to _a pair_ of wings. The area where a wing strut should have been had been welded with a piece of scrap metal, but unlike the others this had clean weld marks that meant whoever did it was precise and careful. He tried not to stare and quickly averted his optics when she turned to face him but she saw him.

“Here. Don’t complain about the taste or I’ll give it to some bot who actually wants it,” she warned.

“Oil’s oil,” he shrugged but even as he brought it up he saw it was somewhat lumpy and didn’t look all that pleasing. He took a careful drink and had to fight to keep from spitting it out. Primus was it nasty and already he could feel his tanks churning but he had to keep it up for appearance sake.

The femme watched him from the corner of her functioning optic, even as she picked up another glass to continue cleaning. “Haven’t seen you around here before,” she said lowly. “Where you from?”

“Does it matter? All those bots looking down at me just because I wasn’t shiny enough, I was just looking for a job but…” he shrugged and took a smaller sip of the crude oil. “Buncha fraggers, the lot of them.”

“… but you used to be one.” There was a brief flicker of surprise that made her smirk. “Your dialect, ain’t exactly smooth like energon wine but it’s there.” She set the glass down, looking up she yelled something at another mech down the other end of the bar before reaching underneath for a larger glass. Filling it with the crude oil she slid it down the counter where the mech barely caught it. “Don’t drop it or I drop you, slagger!” she yelled at him.

“Get bent!” he snapped to which her remaining wing twitched in a seeker’s way of flicking him off.

“Lovely atmosphere, nice bots, delicious oil, looks like you got it made,” the undercover guard said with a wry smirk.

“Yeah, and just think, I get to work here for cycles on end without a break in site.” Wiping at the bar top she stopped and leaned forward. “Designation’s Coldfire, used to be a seeker, now I run the Last Chance bar.”

“Stinger, former labor-bot in Iacon before I said the wrong thing to the wrong mech and here I am,” ‘Stinger’ said with a nod of his helm.

“Iacon, huh? So, how’d you get kicked outta the Golden City?”

“I didn’t agree with the new magnus and when some of those Auto-drones told me to stop, I told them where they could go—like the magnus’ berth, and I booked my tail pipe outta there.” His smirk grew when the femme let out a soft chuckle and she was quick to pass the little story to the other patrons. Soon they were all laughing and were now trading insults about Sentinel and they were all far cruder than the oil itself. The disguised mech made small talk with the femme seeker and was taken back when he heard that she had tried participating in the war but after having to spend five astroseconds in the company of the Air Commander she left but not before trying to rip out his “severely glitched vocalizer” just to shut him up. She ended up taking in war orphans regardless of frame type, even managed to get some of them off Cybertron or into the loving servos of some bots who either lost their own or couldn’t have any. Unfortunately, when Ultra Magnus was damaged and Sentinel Prime given the title of Magnus things grew much more worse. He found out about her and had her captured and took several sparklings she had been caring for, including a seekling who was also the oldest of the little ones having been in his second frame. Once she was in custody the sparklings were all taken in by Autobots except for the seeker, no one wanted him in their home so “adjustments” were made. His wings were surgically removed, he was given new armor plating, and even his optics had been changed from Decepticon red to Autobot blue to be much more pleasing. But what sent the femme into full blown rage was when she tried calling out to him and he didn’t recognize her at all and even sneered at the faded and chipped brands on her wings, calling her names that made the acting Magnus proud. Once he was gone with his new family unit Sentinel bragged that the scientists had reprogrammed him to be the perfect Autobot and once he was in his final frame, he would be the perfect mech to join the Elite Guard.

“They destroyed who he was!! He didn’t know what a ‘Con was, none of them did!! I kept the war a secret from them as much as I could, all I said was the older mechs and femmes were fighting because they couldn’t get along. But Supernova…” she trailed off but it didn’t stop her from sinking her digits into the bar top, slowly sinking them deeper and deeper until they were embedded into the scratched and dented surface. “… I broke my stasis cuffs along with one servo, ripped several Autotroopers to pieces and sent three Elite Guards to the medic before I was brought down and forced into complete stasis. When I onlined I was strapped to a table and that glitch with the plant-sized ego was there. He said, he was going to make me example like he did with Supernova but unlike with him, he wanted me to feel everything that was going to happen. You can guess what happened.”

“He… He, took your wing,” Stinger whispered.

“No. He used that stupid hammer of his to destroy my thrusters, nearly crippling my stabilizers and shattered my wings until they were a heavy weight, then he ripped one off as slowly as possible as though to make the pain last. I don’t know what he wanted me to do but I refused to beg; I cursed him, his creators, the High Council, I even cursed Primus and Unicron both. Then he made me watch as he melted my wing down into scrap. I knew, even if I survived, I would never fly again, I would never be **me** again.”

“… C-Coldfire…” He never knew, he knew Sentinel hated the Decepticons but she left them, tried to help others who wanted no part of this. And to reprogram a youngling barely out of his sparkling frame… “But, you escaped. You survived.”

“Yeah… I escaped… because a Decepticon risked his skid plate to save me.” She was silent for several very ten kliks even as she struggled to remove her digits from within the bar top without ripping it apart. “He got me out, tended to my injuries and helped me recovery. To this cycle I owe him what’s left of my spark.”

“… … … does he want to finish, what Megatron started?” he asked quietly even as he continued to stare into his glass. He flinched and slowly looked up at the dry, sharp static of a scoff she could emit, a disbelieving look on her faceplates.

“And finish what? Both ‘Cons and ‘Bots lost their way, fighting for control of a planet has only brought devastation, death, and nearly extinction to all. No, what I fight for is survival and if I must leave the planet to which I was sparked on, so be it’.” The fembot was silent for several kliks, running the cleaning cloth over her digits before tossing it down onto the bar top. “His words, not mine.”

“Oh. Sounds like a smart mech,” Stinger murmured and drained the rest of his drink but it took all he had not to choke when the femme let out a chuckle and said, “I should hope so, Shockwave wasn’t Megatron’s top scientist for nothing.” He managed to get the oily lumps down and took a few deep vents but the femme either didn’t notice or care as she went to attend to several bots who just entered the bar.

Shockwave was here! Well, he had been here. And he saved this femme from being tortured from Sentinel! But if he ordered the scientists to reformat and reprogram a youngling, why didn’t they say something? Why didn’t they report Sentinel to the High Council? And his orders said if found the ‘Con was to be brought in to face trial.

_‘What trial? He’ll make sure he’s permanently offlined before it happens and claimed it was justice and for the good of Cybertron,’_ he thought to himself. But still, he had obligations and as long as he was an Elite Guardsmech, he had to obey his superior officer. Groaning he rubbed his faceplates with his servos roughly. “Fragging Pitt,” he hissed.

“If you’re going there try and drag that monstrous glitch with you,” Coldfire said as she took his glass. “Another?”

“No, thanks.” If this femme knew Shockave, then it may be possible she knew where he was. But he couldn’t very well demand an answer. If she didn’t rip his spark from his chassis, he was certain there were plenty of other mechs here who would be more than happy to. “Hey, Coldfire. Any idea where I can find him?”

Digits scratched the glass she was cleaning and his wing went tense. “… why the frag would I tell you anything, bot?”

“’Cuz we have a history and I gotta talk to him to get some answers.” It wasn’t a lie, he really did want some answers. She refused to answer and he found himself looking at the perfectly sealed wield where she used to have a wing. “Please… I’ve been looking for him for stellar cycles and this is my only chance.” He could see the tip of her other wing trembling and bit down on his derma, thinking hard before he spoke up once more. “I… never got to tell him—tell him how I feel.” The wing flared out slightly and she slowly turned to face him, her dark burgundy-colored optic staring at him.

* * *

After thanking the femme for the information (and leaving her a big tip), Bumblebee hurried back to his ship as quickly as he could. Making certain he wasn’t being followed he entered and headed straight for the solvent showers. He tried not to think about the pain the femme was forced through, tried not to think what it would be like if he could never race against or feel the road beneath his tires. And to reformat an innocent youngling just because part of his coding was half Decepticon…

_‘I still have a mission to finish,’_ he thought to himself. After cleaning up and fixing up the superficial damage he went to the cockpit of his ship and entered the coordinates. There was no telling if he was still there but according to the fembot he spent a lot of time there so he had to try. He made sure to stay well out of sight, nervously tapping his ped as hew flew. Maybe he left and found a new hiding spot, one that was never indicated on the reports. He couldn’t chase him if he didn’t know where he went, right? And Sentinel certainly would make him check all the planets in the solar system, that would take countless corns!

But this was Sentinel of all bots… he got off on making trainees do nothing but transform-ups for cycles non-stop. Bumblebee found his transformation cogs still ached when he thought back to it. He was brought out of his thoughts when his computer told him he was nearing the coordinates Coldfire gave him. He activated the cloaking as he flew in lower, making certain his scans were fully operational. There was nothing around and soon he landed and took a moment to look at what used to be the Decepticon capital of Cybertron, New Kaon. The entire cityscape was abandoned, nothing but empty buildings remained but many looked ready to fall over any klik. It looked like a warzone yet he wasn’t the least bit surprise. He had heard that as soon as Sentinel was sworn in as the new acting Magnus he demolished several cityscapes ruled by the Decepticons as a message that they [the Autobots] had won, but this looked much worse. It looked like he just sent in the drones to destroy everything in sight.

“I bet he did, the slagger.” Bumblebee made sure he had his emergency rations and his stingers were fully charged as he headed though the ruins of what used to be New Kaon.

It was eerily creepy and more than once he jumped at the sudden sound but he kept pushing for the center of the ruins. According to the bartender, his fugitive was soon hanging around a lot in the main building otherwise known as the capital building and it seemed as though that building had suffered the most damage, half of it gone but at least it meant less places to hide. Entering it was no problem, but the inside was just as badly damaged as the inside. The yellow minibot grumbled under his vents as he began the search while trying to keep as silent as possible. He had no idea that the moment he had entered the building he had activated the building’s silent alarm and deep down below a screen flickered to life.

_“Act—ing—elf-des—tru—in o-one mega—cle-”_

* * *

Shockwave was not pleased. He was not used to working with such primitive equipment and insufficient materials but with Megatron and most of the Decepticon forces in prison, he was on his own. But even so he no longer considered himself one of them. As soon as he recovered from his battle with Ratchet and a barely conscious Ultra Magnus, he saw no reason to continue. Everything seemed so—so—

He looked up when his computer indicated there was an intruder in the building. “Illogical,” he murmured but bringing up the security feed he looked into the cracked screen and felt his spark give a painful pulse in his chassis. “Bu… Bumble… bee? Here? In-In New Kaon?” No, no that was—that was impossible! But he was here. Normally the scientist considered himself well above emotions such as fear, his processor calm and calculating, but ever sine he took up the disguise of the deceased mech Longarm and interacted with the brightly colored mech at boot camp he could not stop thinking about him. But he couldn’t be stopped now! Not when he was so close!

“I have no choice.” If anyone saw him panicking as he raced around the remains of his lab, scattering stacks of data pads and writing instruments, cramping what he deemed important into his subspace. He turned to leave when he tripped over a thick tangle of cables he had been tripping over repeatedly and hit the floor hard. Oh how far he had fallen since his glory days but at least there was no one here to see him crash.

“Hey Shockey, have a nice trip?”

A single red optic widened and he looked up at the yellow mech standing in the doorway, pointing at him with his fully charged stingers. “Bumblebee…” He looked down at his chassis and noticed it had changed before he looked up at him once more. “You are part of the Elite Guard.”

“Yeah. And that means you are under arrest, Shockwave.” He didn’t want to do this, but this mech lied to him—everyone, he stole the schematics of the Space Bridge network and gave it to Megatron, he damaged Ultra Magnus hard enough that he was in critical repairs for a while, and he also get rid of Blur! He deserved to suffer! So why couldn’t he get the stasis cuffs out of his subspace?

The dark violet and black scientist could tell he was processing data very intently, the way his optics flashed momentarily, how his denta bit down on his bottom derma, how his frame tensed up, how it felt when he touched him, how he could almost taste the electrical discharge when he was about to overload—no! it was highly illogical to think of him as anything more than his enemy! “So, it would seem I have finally been captured by the Autobots. Peculiar, I never calculated that you would be the one to escort me to my execution.”

“Wha—execution? I-I’m bringing you in to stand trial! Sentinel never said anything about an execution!”

“Is that what you believe, Bumblebee?” he asked as he slowly get to his peds, removing the cables from where he had tripped. Such mediocre equipment. He took a step towards the minibot but stopped when the guardsmech brought his servos together. His optic looked into those soft sky blues and he saw a vast sea of confusion. “… you didn’t know.”

“Know what? My orders were to scout our rumors that you were still around and if found bring you before the High Council so you can stand trial,” he said calmly. The magnus had even said so, he was to bring him in for a trial! … But, didn’t he do something similar to Coldfire?

“… I see.” Even after all these stellar cycles, the minibot was still as clueless as ever. “Do you truly believe your new magnus would allow for me to a fair trial? I was known as Megatron’s most loyal supporter, his top leading scientist, I obeyed all orders given without question. Do you truly believe that Sentinel of all bots would allow me to stand trial? To stand before the Autobot High Council, even in stasis cuffs, to plead my case?”

“Y-Yes!” Scrap, was that a stutter?

“… you leave me no choice.” Shockwave was a mech who never acted on impulse, he had a plan for everything and in case of it failing (which he always calculated as being less than 0.0003%) he had multiple contingency plans as back-up. And yet for some reason, he never considered that should anyone find him, it would be the one mech he could never seem to fully understand. He lifted his arm and shot his servo out, the still sharp digits gripping the black-stripped chassis gripping it and pulled the Autobot towards him only to step to the side and slammed him into the wall with a mighty crash. “There is a high probability that you will not survive this encounter, Bumblebee. I suggest we merely part ways.” He turned and made to leave but stumbled as pain registered over his neutral network.

“Thanks, for the suggestion, but I think I heard enough outta you to last me at least a vorn!” Bee growled, ignoring the warnings popping up in his HUD he continued to fire at the Decepticon with his stingers. As far as he could tell the scientist didn’t have weapons on him, but he was bigger than him, bigger than Longarm, and he had that really annoying (useful) ability to stretch his arms out at really long distances so he found himself using every trick Prowl—and later Jazz—taught him to keep him from getting grabbed. It wasn’t easy though; the laboratory was a huge mess and he found himself either tripping or running into things but the same was said for Shockwave. What either of them failed to noticed was one of the cracked computer screens showing a countdown.

Down deep below the building was a large spherical device with a similar screen showing the countdown. As it reached a breem it began to light up, plates opening up to reveal a great deal of explosives that would surely take out the city-scape and anyone who still inhabited.

_“Countdown… 565 nanokliks… 564 nanokliks… 563 nanokliks…”_

Shockwave grunted as he was hit with another electrical charge, scorching his plating he reached out and uprooting a piece of heavy equipment threw it at the yellow bot who jumped out of the way. He was waiting for him as his servo shot out but this time the three clawed digits wrapped around his neck cables and lifted him into the air. “You Autobots claimed to be fighting for the good of Cybertron so how is obeying a fool such as Sentinel doing what is best?” he demanded as he slammed the mech into the walls and machinery, watching dimly as the charge died out from his stingers. “By bringing me back to Iacon you are guaranteeing my execution at the servos of a monster!”

“… a-at least… he was-s-sn’t… Me-Me… Mega… tron…” he chocked out. Perhaps not the best choice of words as he was brutally sent through the wall as opposed to into it. Bumblebee heard something snap somewhere inside him and errors were now flooding his HUD. He might have even blacked out for a klik as he found himself staring at the strange and blank faceplates of the mech who had held him captive, his single red optic glowing brightly as it focused on him.

“You know nothing, Autobot. Even your Prime claims to fight for the mechs and femmes of Cybertron and yet he is as blind as all the rest. _‘Til all are one._ Illogical. We. Will never. Be. One.” His digits began to slowly tighten around the neck cables, cutting through sensitive wires and cables, feeling warm energon and oil slowly coat his servo, optic watching as the mech tried to fight him off.

_“216 nanokliks… 215 nanokliks…”_

Shockwave snapped his helm up as he heard the computerized voice. He did not remember having a program initiating a countdown sequence. And if he did, whatever could it be for? His servo stopped squeezing as he looked around the laboratory, trying to locate a working screen until he found one. He walked over it to it, his peds crushing anything in his path, kicking debris and broken data pads along the way.

_“200 nanokliks… 199 nanokliks…”_

Why did this seem so familiar to him? Dropping the guardsmech he began typing at the console, trying to bring up anything he could have remembered when an image appeared revealing the large spherical device. His optic widens when he saw the same countdown timer on it as well. “No… this is—illogical!”

_“… 187 nanokliks… 186 nanokliks… 185 nano kliks…”_

“I-I must stop the sequence!” he began to type rapidly, cursing when he realized some of the buttons had been destroyed he failed to notice Bumblebee getting to his peds, reaching into his subspace and quickly slapped the stasis cuffs over his servos. “No!! Release me!!” he yelled even as he struggled to fight the paralysis attacking his system.

“Y-Yeah, right,” the minibot grunted, wiping away the fluids he could feel dripping down his neck cables even as he grabbed at the ‘Con’s arm. Primus, he weighed a freaking megaton but he’d drag him back to his ship if he had to. “Shockwave, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be held against you in the High Council hearing. You-”

_“173 nano kliks… 171 nanokliks…”_

“-will be provided a representative. If-”

_“167 nanokliks… 166 nanokliks…”_

“-if you cannot-”

_“164 nanokliks…”_

“What the slag is that?? And why is it-”

_“162 nanokliks…”_

“… what is it?!”

“It is the countdown sequence for New Kaon,” Shockwave said, venting quietly. “It is something I created when Lord Megatron took over Pyrovar and gave it the designation New Kaon. In the event that the Autobots ever invaded our capital cityscape… it would detonate and take out the entire city—and all the bots here.”

_“… 102 nanokliks… 101 nanokliks…”_

Bee had to reset his audio and visual sensors before he realized that this was not some elaborate joke and that they were in vey real danger. “Why the Pitt would you do something that-that-illogical!?!?” he shouted at his prisoner even as he ran back to the console and tried hitting the buttons but it kept counting down. “How do I turn it off??”

“You cannot. The bomb is buried at least three hics beneath the lowest level of this building.”

_“96 nanokliks…”_

“And how many floors are below this one?”

_“93 nanokliks…”_

“Three levels.”

_“91 nanokliks…”_

“… we’re scrapped.”

_“89 nanokliks…”_

“Affirmative.”

_“87 nanokliks…”_

Bumblebee didn’t know what to do, he clearly wasn’t processing data correctly as he grabbed the ‘Con’s servos and forced him up onto his peds. He tried dragging him out of the room but the mech was just too heavy to move on his own.

_“77 nano kliks…”_

“Oh scrap this!!” He hated how this was going against his directive but he undid the cuffs and ignored them even as he grabbed Shockwave’s servos and began to pull him along. “Move your peds!!” he shouted as they began running. Sadly, they were a good two floors beneath the main level so it was going to take even more time to get through the mess and up the stairs. He made to go the way he had originally come but stumbled when the building began to shake. “N-Now what??”

“The building’s structure has been compromised. We must hurry if we are to escape the blast radius,” the scientist said even as the two of them fought to stay on their stabilizers.

“My ship is on the outskirts of the city! Once we’re outta here we can transfor-” but anything Bumblebee was about to say was lost as the floor gave out from under him. He didn’t even have time to cry out as he began falling, vainly reaching out to grab something to hold onto. He vaguely heard someone calling out to him and for a moment he thought it may as well have been Primus but he felt something grabbing his servo and suddenly he wasn’t falling anymore. Instead he was dangling over a very deep, very dark hole.

“Be-Bumblebee!! Are you alright?!”

Slowly he looked up and could make out the brightly glowing red optic of Shockwave, leaning over the edge of the hole he had fallen through, his servo extended far longer than he had ever seen him do before. “Sh… Shockwave… I’m fine… I-” around him the walls and remains of the building were shaking. He didn’t register the pain as the sharp digits dug into his seams, or the way his own digits curled around his own, hanging on for spark’s sake. _‘I’m gonna die!!’_

Shockwave was struggling to retract his servo but he had overextended the gears and his hydraulics were threatening to lock into place. There wasn’t enough time to pull Bumblebee out of the hole or even escape the building much less make it to his ship. They would die here.

_‘No! There is a 0.0003% chance of survival.’_ Anyone else would have given up, especially the Decepticons, but he had given up being one a long time ago and he would not lose Bumblebee. Never again. “Bumblebee!! Whatever you do, don’t let go!!” he shouted down to him.

“Wait, what??” he looked up and yelped when suddenly, he felt himself falling once more. “What the slag are you doing!?!?” he shouted as loud as he could, still clutching the servo tightly. He felt a slight jerk, followed by falling once more but he was too shocked to scream. The servo slipped from his but as he scrambled out to grab onto something he felt a frame hit him. He didn’t question it as he clung to the other bot, shutting his optics tightly. “Don’t let go!! Please don’t let go!!” he whimpered. None of his Elite Guard training prepared him for this and he really did not want to go out like this!

The scientist said nothing even as he curled his arms around the smaller mech, his single optic rapidly scanning something to help them—there! He would only have one chance at this and he was determined not to miss. He twisted their frames, his processor rapidly calculating the distance and he launched his servo as far and as fast as he could. His servo reached into one of the halls they had just passed, digits scrambling for something to hold onto, digging into the walls and floor they managed to anchor themselves and he clung to it as tightly as he could. The ‘Con grunted as his arm seemed to stretch for an astrosecond but he could feel the hydraulics and springs activating and they were being launched upward.

Bumblebee was reminded of the times he went with Sari to the amusement park in New Detroit, the rides they went on were so much fun, but right now all he wanted to do was not die! He yelped as he felt the both of them suddenly weightless before being pulled up and opened his optics in time to crash land onto something hard and very solid. Unfortunately, he landed on his helm and the impact was so strong his system crashed. He vaguely heard Shockwave calling out his designation but try as he could he could not get his vocalizer to work.

_‘S… Sh… Shock… w-wave…’_ Everything silently turned to black and he fell into emergency stasis. If he was going to die, at least he wouldn’t feel it happening.

* * *

_The pleasure was intense, two systems still running hot enough to scorch plating, circuitry smoking but it was so intense! Bumblebee wanted to cry out the other mech’s designation but at the last klik an off-white servo came up and covered his derma, muffling his cries (his engine gave a pleased rumble when he heard the other mech let out a muffled groan of pleasure). The minibot reached up to cling to the servo, whimpering as he felt the other servo continue stroking his spike, squeezing every drop of transfluid out, thick fluids dripping down the inside of his stabilizers, the stroking turning to ghostly caresses as his spike depressurized into his housing. He couldn’t help but squirm, causing the other’s cable which was still trapped between his stabilizers to rub against his dripping wet valve. His yellow covered servo came down, whether to push him away or pull him closer he wasn’t sure but the teasing digits moved up and instead wrapped around his small waist, holding him close, stilling all movement._

_“Keep that up and I’m going continue where we left off,” came the deep vocalization, a rumble vibrating within his chassis. Longarm paused and hugged the minibot tighter as he felt a slick glossia licking the inside of his servo. “What are you doing?”_

_“Hmmm?” Bee smiled as the rumble continued, the vibrations spreading into him. The servo relaxed but he kept licking at the seams, tracing the length of the digits. “You started it,” he murmured, moaning in loss as he felt the hips pull back, shivering as the spike pulled itself free._

_“Now I’m ending it.” Longarm reached down to retrieve the cloth he had dropped earlier and pouring some more cleanser, scrubbed at the faint paint transfers, wiping away the trails of transfluid. He would have rather left it on him, claimed him like he knew he wanted but now was not the time. “Better finish up, someone’s coming,” he whispered into his audio but before pulling away completely he licked at the small horn atop his helm._

_The smaller mech trembled even as he leaned forward, resting his forehelm on his arm pressed into the wall before him. The solvent was no longer running hot but he still accepted the cloth and cleaned off the remaining transfluid and lubricant from his plating, trembling slightly as he reached between his stabilizers but he gave the command to have his panel slid close and reached out to turn off the showers and just in time._

_“Well well well, looks like you managed to clean off all the paint, Bumbler,” Wasp sneered as he entered the wash racks._

_“Knock it off, the idea of these exercises is to watch each other’s backplates,” Longarm said as he finished rinsing off from another shower stall._

_“It was just a joke,” Ironhide said as he moved into the stall next to him and waited for the solvent to activate. “Who the frag used up all the heat?!”_

_“Yeah, like it wasn’t funny the last dozen times, either,” Bumblebee muttered as he shook the excess water from his stabilizers._

_“What was that?”_

_“Nothing.” Just like every other prank the green minibot threw at him. Bumblebee was ready to ignore him as he left the stall, reaching out to grab a large cloth to dry off._

_“Yeah, that’s what I thought. That’s all you’re ever gonna be, a bumbling nothing.”_

_“You’re one to talk!” Bee snapped as he whirled to face him. “This may be training but it shows I can’t depends on you to watch my backplates! No one can depend on you ‘cuz you’re more likely to try and blow them up to get ahead!”_

_“Maybe if you stopped screwing everything up and getting us all in trouble, I might take you seriously!” Wasp argued back._

_“Like I care what you think! You think you’re so much better than me but you’ll still only ever be a minibot!”_

_“Better a minibot than some bumbler like you!”_

_Bumblebee literally saw red and was ready to charge at the other mech but servos reached out, grabbing him from behind. It didn’t stop him from yelling and cursing at the other mech, struggling against the other mech as he was carried into the locker rooms. “And another thing-!!” A servo reached up and covered his mouthplates, muffling his curses._

_“Calm down or else Sentinel will come and have us doing transform ups until our cogs give out,” he murmured to him. Looking around he moved them to the farther corner of the area, and out of view of the single security camera. He continued to hold the struggling minibot, refusing to let go but eventually he stopped and he slowly lowered his servo. “You done?”_

_“Soon as I show him how to use a grenade properly,” he growled but he had given up trying to get free. “Fragging glitch, thinks he’s so much better.”_

_“He isn’t-”_

_“Scrap right he’s not!”_

_“-but you argue right back. Just ignore him, I’d told you that.” Bee muttered something under his vents but Longarm still didn’t release him. “At least he didn’t see me helping you get cleaned up. Then again, I don’t want anybot seeing you like that, especially when you overload from my touch.”_

_Faceplates colored brightly and the mech gasped as digits teasingly stroked at his still sensitive panel. “Lo-Longarm, wait-” He gasped then purred softly as the larger mech began drying him off with the cloth he had used earlier, rubbing at his plating and making certain he got everywhere. Bee could feel the rest of his anger fading with the pampering, he took the cloth and returned the favor. Soon both were dry but he didn’t look up at him. He felt—confused._

_“Longarm…”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“… earlier… you, your spike…” he wanted him to take it, he was trying to show him but did he want him to say it? “Why didn’t you… um…”_

_“Why didn’t I take your seal?” The yellow mech didn’t say anything but he refused to look up at him. Venting softly, he tilted his servo under his chin and lifted his faceplates up to look at him. “Believe me, I wanted to, you were begging me to, but I heard Ironhide and Wasp coming and I was not going to give them a show.”_

_“Yeah… bet it woulda fried their processors,” Bumblebee grumbled but he leaned into the servo as it reached up to caress the side of his helm, a digit brushing over a cheek ridge. Out in the open Longarm would be distant, barely acknowledging him or outright ignore him but when they had a chance to be alone, he was the complete opposite. He acted like he loved him._

_Loved him._

_The idea caused his spark to pulse strongly in his chassis, everything seemed to move in a blurr as he pulled the taller mech down and pressed their derma together in a kiss. He felt the other mech tense before pulling him close, kissing him back. Glossias brushed against one another, words not needed but as much as they wanted to stay like this they couldn’t. Slowly, reluctantly, they pulled back from one another. Bee blinked as he found himself sitting on Longarm’s lap but smiled as he leaned forward, letting their forehelms touch._

_“Can I still get Wasp back for calling me bumbler?”_

_“No. But you can get him back for interrupting us.”_

_“Deal! He won’t know what hit him!” The minibot smiled at the laugh coming from his lover and smiled as he hugged him tighter, tightening his stabilizers around his neck, feeling as his own wrapped tighter around his waist. “I love you.”_

_Blue optics widen even as lip plates pulled in a sad smile. “I know.”_

“B—lebe—can y—ar—e?”

All he could hear was static but the voice kept repeating itself. His processor was arching pretty badly but he managed to force his optics to online and looked through a pixelated mess of colors. He felt his derma parting but quickly shut them when he realized he couldn’t hear himself speak. In fact, he couldn’t hear or feel anything.

Shockwave could see panic starting to settle in; he reached out to gently rest his servo on the minibot’s chassis. “It is alright, I’m going to repair you,” he said only to realize he could not hear him. “I am sorry.” He reached for the manual shut down switch and turned it off. Bright blue optics flickered off and soon the yellow frame went still then limp. The minibot was out but the former Decepticon scientist went back to work on repairing him. It didn’t matter that he was an Autobot who had been ordered to bring him in to stand trial, one he knew would be rigged so no matter what he said would ultimately spell out his execution. It was all highly illogical, and yet he couldn’t do it to him. Ignoring the unnecessary thought processes, he plugged back into the helm, rooting out glitches and errors he could find, determined to save the minibot even if meant his own freedom.

The next time the Elite Guardsmech online his chronometer indicated a joor had passed since he was last online and his system had been repaired but by an outside source. _‘What, outside source?’_ he asked himself but instead of forcing it allowed everything to online one by one. He vented in relief when he realized he had full access to his system which meant he could move and he could hear the systems of another mech right next to him. He wanted to tense but he was aware of a servo resting on his chassis, of a digit gently rubbing over his insignia as he slowly booted up. It felt—nice.

“Bumblebee, can you hear me?” It took him a klik to recognize the vocalizer and even though his vision was still pixelated he focused in on the single glowing light.

“Shockwave…” He waited as the pixels became sharper and he could not make out the ‘Con’s faceplates (or lack of). In fact, the room they were in was incredibly dark and he didn’t realize his night vision had activated. Venting softly, he slowly pushed himself up so he was sitting up, dimly aware of the servo (Shockwave’s) slipping off his chassis. “What, happened?”

“What do you recall?”

“Recall—oh. I remember you said a bomb was going off, and we were trying to get to the main level, but I remember falling, then you were with me…” Oh he defiantly remembered him reaching down for him, then being held tightly, and he remembered hitting something really hard then nothing. Reaching up he rubbed at his helm and winced when his digits brushed over a badly dented horn. “Oow.”

“Don’t,” the dark violet mech said as he reached out to pull his servo away from touching it. “I pulled the two of us onto another floor and was able to find a room far from the blast. However, when the device finalized the countdown it destroyed the remains of New Kaon. But in the process, it sealed us within here.” He looked over to where the door had been only for it to be completely covered in rumble and debris from the remains of the cityscape.

“What?” Bumblebee couldn’t believe it, they were trapped! “What about the walls-”

“Everything has been reinforced in case the Autobots thought to invade New Kaon by using the energon tunnels that once fueled Cybertron.”

“Cybertron has tunnels??” Blinking Bee looked away from the other mech. “So, you’re saying, we’re trapped here with no way out.”

“Affirmative.”

“Great.” Oh this was just perfect! He didn’t have to ask about their energy signatures, if it wasn’t the amount of scrap around them they were no doubt too deep beneath the surface to get any kind of comm link out. He could even reach his ship. Frowning Bee looked down at him only to see he had fresh weld marks. “Wait. Shockave, did you… did you, repair me?”

The former scientist was silent but he refused to look at him as he slowly got to his peds. “You require fuel in order to remain operational. I believe there may be some still here,” he said and made to leave the mech but was halted when he felt a servo grab his. “Release me-”

“I met Coldfire.” He saw him tense but continued speaking. “I was looking for information and trying to find somebot who claimed to have seen you when I found her bar in one of the lower cityscapes. We, started talking and I asked her about what happened… she told me everything.”

“… Do you understand why I will never be granted a fair trial? Sentinel Magnus will see to it that all Decepticons are persecuted and claim it for the justice of Cybertron.”

“But, if you can just talk with the High Council-”

“The High Council made me the mech I am today!” he shouted angrily as he ripped his servo away from the yellow mech, turning on him, his single red optic glowing brightly. “I tried to get them to see reason, to show them the dark days and refused to be silent, they performed empurata on me, while I was still online. They stole everything I was and made me—this.”

Bumblebee could only stare at him with wide optics, suddenly very afraid. “Wha… what are you talking about?”

“… this was long before your time, before even the time of your Prime, but it is the act of having one’s helm and servos removed, and in their place to be installed a featureless helm and digit-less claws, to show the citizens they are to be shunned for their crimes.” He looked down at his servo but even now he could not remember what they used to look like, or what he used to look like. The council even made sure to erase him from the archives so he would never know.

“… … … I… I didn’t know…” Bumblebee whispered as he stared at the ground. Was everything he knew, fought for, was it all one grand lie after another? Was he even making a difference like he wanted? But a tiny part of his processor argued that this was Shockwave, a Decepticon who lied to everyone—especially him. “So why did you save her? Why did you risk your plating for a femme and orphaned sparklings? Why did you save me?”

“…”

“I have a right to know!” he shouted at him angrily as he got to his peds. “You owe me that much!”

“… it was illogical, to save them but I cannot explain my actions even against you, but as positive that I will face an early execution, at least I will be brought in by the only Autobot I know who deeply cares for the welfare of Cybertron and her future.”

“… Shockwave-” He froze when the scientist turned to him, holding out his servos. He blinked and looked up at him in confusion. “What’s this?”

“You have almost completed your mission, all that is required is to bring me in,” he said calmly, even going so far to kneel before him, still holding his servos out to him.

Bee didn’t know what to do, his own servos shook as he debated whether or not to remove the extra pair of stasis cuffs he had in his subspace but instead he gripped the claws, smiling weakly as they closed over his digits. He found himself leaning forward, pressing his forehelm to the top of his, optics dimming as they closed. “This, reminds me of the first time I confessed my feelings to you in boot camp,” he whispered softly. “Remember?”

“… affirmative.” He remembered everything; he remembered seeing the bright yellow mech, how small he was compared to other one and how similar he and Wasp looked, but his personality was so different. He was loud, boastful, uncoordinated, and yet he was not afraid to fight for what he believed in, strived to become better, and befriended the green klutz when everybot avoided him. He vented softly and reached out, unaware that he had activated his transformation into that of his Autobot disguise as he wrapped his servos around the smaller frame, holding him tightly. “I’m sorry, Bee. I didn’t want to hurt you. I had forgotten how to feel anything, and Megatron’s words rang true: everything was unjust, they weren’t even allowed designations of their own.”

“Shock-I mean Longarm…” he wasn’t sure what to say and even with the taller mech on his knees their faceplates were at level with one another but his own servos wrapped around his neck cables. “Does that mean, your feelings for me, weren’t real?”

Blue optics blinked at they focused onto silver faceplates, the dim look in his optics, his EM field held tightly in but as his reached out he could feel his fear of rejection, desperate to be loved, to be wanted. Part of him that was still Shockwave argued that feelings were illogical, there were meaningless and not worth any amount of processing over, and yet there was a part of him that longed for somebot to share his spark with, to experience warmth and joy and love-

“I love you.” That came completely out of nowhere and the minibot looked at him in surprise; the taller mech closed the distance between them and took his lip plates into a kiss. Primus! He had nearly forgotten how good this felt as servos tightened around the slender frame, crushing him close he was dimly aware of being kissed back. After several kliks he pulled back, both venting hard but his systems took over as he lowered the yellow mech to the floor, stroking the warm plating, moaning as his lover let out soft cries of pleasure. “I love you, Bee. I’ve always loved you,” he murmured against his neck cables, moving his derma lower, digits and glossia teasing hot spots he could never forget, listening to the sweet sounds the mech beneath him made.

“L-Long… arm…!” Bumblebee gasped, arching into the caresses. Memories of his dream came back and his own system was reacting to the pleasurable sensations. His servos dug into the floor, scratching the dirty flooring, He flushed as he felt a wet glossia trace the seams of his panel and let out a soft whimper as it opened, lubricant dripping freely and his spike fully pressurized. “S-s’not funny!” he forced out when he heard a low chuckle but when he tried to close his stabilizers he looked down to see they were being held open.

“Sorry. It’s just like how I remember it… wonder if it still tastes the same.” Rubbing at the inside of his stabilizers he leaned down and licked at the spike, tracing the string of biolights on either side, he moaned as he swallowed the drops of transfluid. Looking up his optics locked onto those of the Elite Guardsmech and saying nothing more, opened his mouth and took the spike slowly inside, slowly moving down until his derma were pressed firmly to the housing. Just as good as he remembered he slowly pulled back, sucking hard as he reached the tip then swallowed it down once more. The whimpering cry Bee let out and hearing his cooling fans kicking on made him groan and continued. The lean stabilizers trembled beneath his grip, hips trying to buck up to drive himself deeper inside, but he made sure to keep him pinned down. Longarm kept the slow pace, moaning at the taste and spread the black-plated thighs farther, sliding his servos up and rubbed at the naked valve. The mesh plating was still soft as he remembered, scorching hot, dripping wet, and so sensitive that as he stroked it the entire frame shook, armor rattling and servos gripped at his helm.

“L-Longarm! Wait! I… I…!” Been tried to tell him but he let out a shaky cry and his backstrut arched as the digits pushed their way inside, opening his valve and letting out even more drops of lubricant but it also revealed something to the other mech as he pulled off his spike with a hard suction at the tip. “Nghh hahh!”

“You… you’re, still sealed…?” He had prepared himself for this, that the minibot had his seal taken by someone else, that he decided to give the honor to someone who he felt didn’t betray him, but just behind the plush entrance was the silicon seal that showed he was still untouched. “But…”

“I… always wanted… you, to take it…” Bumblebee panted softly, gently rubbing at his helm. He smiled down at him, cheek ridges flushed brightly. “Its yours… if… if you still, want it?”

Heat exploded throughout his system, cooling fans kicking on with a low roar, the former Prime was certain his faceplates were burning with the intensity of a red star. Did, did he want to take his seal after all this time? Did he want him to experience an overload so strong it caused his processor to crash and send him offline? Did he want to hear the minibot crying out his designation like he was the living embodiment of Primus himself?

“… longarm…?” came the hesitant and quiet voice.

… you bet your sweet aft he did!! Servos gripped at the slender waist, pulling the frame up as he sat up on his knees, pulling him up he firmly wrapped his one of his servo around the slick thigh, keeping it spread open he leaned forward and began lavishing the lubricant covered valve with an eager and hungry glossia. The static-keening cry was music to his audios as he licked and swallowed the silvery pink fluids, holding the minibot tightly with his other servo so he wouldn’t fall. His blue optics slid close, losing himself in the delicious and sweet taste of what he believed he’d never be able to taste, but his single red optic continued to watch and record it all to his memory banks.

Despite the position being just a tad bit uncomfortable and it was forcing his helm to look down his chassis at a slightly painful angle, Bee was forgetting everything about him. He forgot why he was in this debris filled room, why the wall with the only door leading in or out was blocked. Why he had been looking for the Decepticon, he even forgot his full designation. Part of him thought to cover his derma, to muffle his keening cries but instead he clawed at the floor, searching for something to grab and instead dug his digits into the other mech’s stabilizers, trying to arch into him but his tight embrace kept him from moving around. The relentless assault on his seal was driving him insane, probing and flicking against the flexible membrane, the sensors behind it aching to be caressed, even his spike begged to be touched but when he tried to tell him all he could do was cry out in pleasure. It was as though he had forgotten how to speak. Luckily his system knew what he wanted.

He released his grip on the stabilizer, trailed up his heaving chassis, pausing now and then to stroke at his seams and secret hot spots, making him wither in pleasure, stabilizers tensing. He screamed his pleasure and threw his helm back (barely noticing as he nearly bent his sensory horns in half) as the glossia roughly flicked at his anterior node, pushing him so close to an overload he nearly lost it and trembled even harder as his fluids were licked clean. His servo shook as it wrapped around his spike and began to roughly stroke it, his cries coming out harsher, sharper in pitch, sounding more desperate, but as the hot derma closed around his swollen node and sucked hard, he lost it and screamed in pleasure, hot lubricant flooding from behind the seal, servo clutching his spike hard enough to hurt but it didn’t stop the transfluid from spurting free, coating his servo and chassis, even hitting him in the faceplates. He was dimly aware of being lowered, of his stabilizers being wrapped around a thick waist, skilled servos stroking his sides, digits brushing over hot spots, a slick glossia licking away the transfluid before invading his mouth. The two mechs swallowed each other’s moans, fans still running on high but as he felt something thick press into his hyper sensitive valve he pushed at the mech, panting heavily.

“Lo-Longarm… wait,” he whispered, looking away as he felt him stop then slowly pull back.

“Bee… I thought you, wanted this,” he said quietly, reaching down to cup his heated faceplates into his servo, using a digit to wipe away some transfluids he had missed.

“I do,” Bee moaned, holding the servo close he licked the precum away, curling his glossia around the digit as he did so. “I want you to take me… as the mech you really are… as Shockwave.”

For a split astrosecond, the former Prime felt his processor stall but without warning his system gave the command to transform and he found himself once more in his Decepticon frame. He made to pull back but was surprised when Bumblebee pulled him down and kissed him on his non-existent lip plates, tightening his stabilizers around his far slenderer waist. He couldn’t help but groan as the hips shifted against his own, making his spike twitch and pulse in longing.

“Bu… Bumblebee… w-why?” he asked with a moan, unable to keep himself from rocking against the yellow frame, trembling at the feel of fresh lubricant coating his aching spike, hips bucking as he felt a yellow-tipped servo reach down to grasp it, guiding closer.

“I want you to take it, to take me, like the mech you truly are,” he whispered softly. Laying back Bee’s cheek ridges were still flushed brightly with heat but he pulled Shockwave closer, gently tugging on his spike as he rubbed the tip against the opening and over his very sensitive node. “Please, Shockey?”

Even though he didn’t have faceplates of his own, just a featureless helm with a single optic, he felt them heat up. He leaned in close, optic dimming even as he wrapped his clawed servos around the slender hips, lifted them up as he slowly began to push in. The tip brushed against the flexible barrier, feeling it have more give than earlier but hearing Bee whimpering for him to take it, he pushed in and felt it give way. Almost immediately a rush of fresh, hot lubricant released and coated his spike, unused cables clenching around the sudden intrusion, a whimpering cry escaping tightly clenched denta. He kept on pushing until he was fully hilted inside, the valve impossibly tight around him but it was so good, so hot, so tight, so wet, so… so…

“… per… fect…”

Oh Primus, Bee could remember only one other time he had overloaded like that and it had been when Longarm had taken his first seal, licking at his spike housing until it broke through the seal and then guided him into a second overload while at boot camp. Yes it hurt, a lot, but as soon as his spike broke through and the way it pressed against all his untouched sensor nodes as he slid completely in forced him into another overload. But, the mech he had loved had taken his seals, had taken both of them. He was his. “S… Shockey…” he gasped aloud, trying to focus on his glowing optic he gasped as he felt him pull back, pulling all the way out until the tip nudged at his mesh opening, leaving him empty until he pushed in with a wet sound, once more rubbing over sensors and making him whimper in want, frame arching as hips pushed into him. “Yes… yes… more, please…” he whimpered, arching as he obeyed, now moving harder and changing angles so each time he pushed in the tip of his spike would roughly prod at his sensitive nodes, causing the charge to build up once more. “Oh Primus, frag me, Shockwave!” he demanded, reaching down to clutch at his servos, tightening his stabilizers around him.

The scientist didn’t seem to hear him as he continued the slow but deep pace, refusing to move harder or faster, watching the way the brightly color mech arched into him, tried to bring him in deeper. He was savoring the sensations he was feeling, the way the cables tightened around him and tried to keep him inside, how servos clung to his, hearing him beg. The part that was still devoted to the words of Megatron tried to point out that all of this was illogical, that he had no need for self-gratification, and yet a distant part was arguing that he didn’t always think of logic, that feelings he thought had been deleted were still there, still activated.

“Is that what you truly want, Bumblebee?” he asked as his slid his servos down, slowly pulling the minibot up so he was sitting up on his lap. “Do you know how long I dreamt of taking you, of feeling the way my spike forced its way into your valve, to have you call out my designation as I made you experience one overload after another? To overwhelmed your processor with so much data it will be forced to shut down?”

Bee couldn’t help but nod, unable to make a sound even as he felt sharp digits scratching as his plating, slowly lifting him up he servos reached out to grip at his plating, wondering what he was going to do when he dropped him heavily on his lap at the same thing he arched his hips up. A strong of curses both from Cybertron and Earth blurted free but the incredible and painful pleasure had his sensory network screaming. He let himself be fragged by the former Decepticon, cursing up a storm as his spike rammed against his nodes, causing a whole array of errors to fill his HUD but before he could reach an overload he would slow down and rock their hips together, grinding them hard enough to cause sparks, causing his very swollen, very sensitive anterior node to be rubbed against, turning him into a desperate mewling mess. Then he would crush him tightly to his chassis and slammed into him as hard as he could, a mix of lubricant and transfluid seeping out of the tight seal his valve made around the spike, all of it varying in speed and duration. Bumblebee tried to keep up, tried to telling him to go harder, faster, to even slow down but he could only cling to him, panting heavily, glossia hanging out as he struggled to keep from overheating. The charge had grown so much, the warnings in his HUD giving him optics a nearly crimson hue, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take it.

“… sh… shock… ey… pleasssee…” he whimpered softly, mewling sharply as he lifted him then dropped him down onto his spike once more, grinding their hips and causing another powerful charge to surge through him.

“What do you want, Bumblebee?” Shockwave asked, sounding only slightly breathless himself as he lightly traced the scratches he had created on the condensation-soaked plating. “Tell me what you want.”

“… wa… wanna… no, need… needa o‘erlo…” the minibot begged, clinging to him he licked at the bottom of his helm, whimpering softly as the pace slowly picked up speed he latched onto the other mech’s neck cables, clinging to him tightly. Servos stroked at his own damn plating, digging into seams, stroking pulsing cables, as his digits traced the length of the ‘Con’s horns from the side of his helm he was rewarded with a rumbling moan.

“Again,” came the low moan, digits digging painfully but their frames were now moving harder and faster than before, the sound of metal clashing against each other echoing in the room. The mech obeyed without question and was soon roughly stroking the sensitive appendages as he gave into his lover’s begging. He never thought of them as being sensitive, then again he never spared any thought processes into anything like this and yet, he felt as though it was the one thing he had been missing in his lifecycle even before the dreaded empurata ritual. He had been denying his own overload, holding it back with everything he had, but with each thrust, each clench, each beautiful mewling cry, each rough caress, it was too much data to process but for once he didn’t think about it and let it go.

The intense hot rush of fluids filling his valve, forcing its way deep into his tanks, it was just what Bumblebee needed and he screamed so loudly he shorted out his vocalizer, cables clenching around the spike repeatedly, trying to coaxed out every last drop into his tanks. He clung to Shockwave even as he trembled, feeling him do the same, servos tightening. He wasn’t sure how long they rode out the pleasure, it could have been kliks, it could have been joors, maybe even longer but it was the most intense pleasure he had ever felt. His engine gave a deep, satisfying purr as he felt claws gently rubbing the back of his helm and backstrut.

“… never pegged you for a romantic, Shockey…” he murmured quietly, a slight hint of static coating his words.

“Only when I am around you, Bumblebee,” he said calmly, looking down at him with affection and love in his optic. He shifted slightly as he gently pulled the minibot off, murmuring words of affection when Bee cringed in clear discomfort, and held him close to his chassis as he leaned against the wall. He was aware that they were both covered in various fluids and that the Autobot’s own panel hadn’t closed yet but it was just the two of them and it could wait. He vented softly when he saw his fuel errors were very low. “We must refuel soon.”

“M’kay…” Bee murmured sleepily, feeling his recharge cycle beginning to start up. “You think… we’re, gonna get outta… outta here… soon…” He never heard his answer as his optics dimmed then offlined, his frame relaxing as he slipped into a deep and much needed recharge and also in an attempt to conserve what energy he had remaining.

There was a long pause before the wanted scientist answered with a quiet “Affirmative.” He made sure he was holding the minibot close to his chassis, feeling his own recharge cycle trying to put him into stasis when he heard something outside the room. He narrowed his optic as he tried focusing in on the sound. It sounded, like digging? Yes, there was something digging through the debris and it was followed by the muffled voices of strangers. Perhaps the Elite Guard had noticed one of their own were missing and had come looking for him. He knew he should leave or find a way to escape, but he could not leave Bee here like this. If he had to, he would make it seem as though he had taken advantage of him if to spare him from being branded a traitor. With the yellow helm pressed to his chassis he gently wrapped his claws around the neck cables, the damage he had done nothing more than a slight mark as more of the debris was cleared, followed by a cloud of dirt. When it cleared he was surprised to see several large framed mechs pulling the debris free with grunts and curses, each wearing faded brands of either Decepticons or Autobots, but they looked at him in shock. Or rather, they looked at the minibot cradled in his arms.

“Whoa… some mech had a good frag,” one of the mehcs grinned and roughly nudged the other.

“Heard a minibot’s valve is the best feeling ever,” another smirked. “Hey, mind letting us have a go?”

Shockwave narrowed his optic dangerously as them even as he tightened his servos around the deeply recharging mech. He didn’t say anything but he was not letting these glitches near his sweet little bot.

“I don’t think he wants to share, mechs.”

“So? We dug him out, we deserve somethin’,” the apparent leader said and walked towards Shockwave but fell flat on his faceplates with a low curse as something struck him hard in the back of his helm. “What the slag?!”

“What the frag are you glitches doing?!” Coldfire snapped at them angrily, servos planted on her hips, tapping the plating with the tips of her claws.

“N-nothing!! Swear to Primus!!” one of them stammered nervously.

“Oh really? Spell Primus.” The mech seemed to gray and when she growled as him he bolted out of the hole, followed by the other. Looking at Shockwave she nodded but saw the very obvious puddle of mixed fluids. Her wing gave a twitch and she watched as the mech she had struck got to his peds. “Well?” The mech growled but seeing her wing twitch, flaring slightly, said nothing as he left via the hole they had made, muttering under his vents about femmes being nothing but scrap. “Like he’s one to talk,” she muttered but looking at the scientists smirked, cocking her hip out. “Well, looks like you two had some fun catching up.”

“Not that I am not grateful for your assistance, how did you know we were trapped?” he asked he, accepting the cleaning cloth she tossed him and cleaned bee up first, being mindful of his still bared valve.

“You really think anybot wouldn’t notice a big aft explosion coming from the remains of New Kaon?” she scoffed. “Besides, I figured you needed some help. You saved me once, so I owed you.”

* * *

It had been exactly one deca-cycle when Sentinel last heard from the bumbling scout. Pitt, he hadn’t even wanted to make him an Elite Guard but it had been Ultra Magnus’ last request. Well, actually, his last request before passing into the Well of the AllSpark was to reward the brave team of Autobots who defeated Megatron and brought back the AllSpark to Cybertron. And of course, the annoying yellow glitch said he wanted to be an Elite Guard so they High Council gave it to him.

_‘Can’t even do a simple mission!’_ he argued angrily to himself. Sure, he could have sent more experienced mechs to track down the wanted criminal Shockwave but the mech was as sly and a turbofox and twice as cunning. What would have been the point? And it wasn’t like the mech wasn’t doing anything important, he made damn sure of that. _‘So why the slag isn’t he responding to anymore of my comms?’_ he looked up sharply when he heard a knock on his office door. “What is it?!”

“An important message came from you, Sentinel Magnus, sir.”

Grumbling about the incompetence of drones he stormed over to his door, snatched the items from the Autobot Trooper’s servo then slammed the door shut, punching in his own personal code to lock it from inside. The item was a data pad but as he turned it on he let out a snort when he realized it was a message from the bumbler himself.

“Glitch no doubt got himself in some deep slag. Should let him fester in whatever Pitt-forsaken mess he got himself trapped in,” he muttered under his vents, dropping into his plush chair behind his desk and opened the message. There was a bit of static before the image cleared to reveal the faceplates of the minibot, his normally brightly colored plating looked a bit dinged up but he was otherwise online.

“If you’re reading this, Sentinel magnus, sir, then consider this my official last message to you. What I am about to say I have been thinking about for these last several solar cycles, coming to terms about truths that I learned and in turn, it made him think about my own part of it and what I really wanted in my life cycle,” he began, speaking as though he was reciting something from his memory banks. “Ever since I was a sparkling, I wanted to be part of the Elite Guard, I wanted to be like them. A bot mechs and femmes could look up to, someone to be depended on in times of need, to be a hero for Cybertron. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy but if was something I would have done anything for. When I got the message that I was accepted into the Autobot Bootcamp I was so excited, it meant I was that much closer to achieving my dream. If I knew then what I know now, it might have changed everything.”

“What the slag does that mean?” he grumbled.

“You, did not make it easy. You were demanding, harsh, brutal even, forcing us to do transform up for cycles on end, but I get it, it was part of your job to train us. Secretly I think you had more fun with it than any other Minor before you.” The Magnus allowed a smirk to grace his derma. “But it wasn’t until much later I realized you always picked on me. Yeah I didn’t make it easy, I messed up a lot, I didn’t know when to keep my lip plates shut, and in an effort to weed out the secret Decepticon spy I ended up making you look bad. Wait, no, I just made you reveal your true colors, _sir_. Optimus was always a better Prime, just wish everyone realized it before but then again he proved himself by taking down Megatron **and** bringing the AllSpark back to Cybertron with his team of maintenance bots.”

“Why you little!” the navy-blue Magnus seethed at the data pad. The next time he saw that bumbler…!

“In case you’re wondering, Shockwave is gone. I looked everywhere for him but I can’t find him. Maybe he succumbed to his injuries when he tried to offline Ultra magnus, maybe somebot else got to him, all I know is I looked everywhere and all I could find was this.” He lifted his servo up and revealed a piece of broken armor that looked like it had been an antenna or some sort of horn with the end broken and charred. It took Sentinel a few kliks to realize it was part of the missing Decepticon’s helm. “I think this is a perfect indicator that he’s gone and he’s not coming back. But that also brings me to what I really wanted to tell you.” Bumblebee was silent for several kliks, his vents silently cycling air before he spoke up. “I am officially resigning from the Elite Guards. On top of them I was also resigning from being classified from an Autobot.”

“What?!?!”

“I’ve seen, learned, and experienced so much thanks to Bulkhead, Sari, Optimus, Ratchet, Prowl… Jazz, the jettwins, Ultra Magnus and even you. But I also learned something about myself from every battle I’ve been in either with Decepticons or the various humans on Earth. I thought I found something I wanted to do with my lifecycle. But during my search looking for Shockwave I learned something that I wish I never found out but I am thankful I did find out.” He looked off to the side, his optics dim. “Being an Elite Guard, that was never my dream. Not the way I was thinking, but I can’t just pretend everything is normal and go on living a lie. I have a new dream, and it doesn’t even concern Cybertron.” He vented deeply, shutting his optics tightly but he looked at the screen and his bright blue optics had a cold, hard edge to them.

“You a glitch, Sentinel. You never shoulda been made a Minor much less a Prime and you will never be as great a Magnus as Ultra Magnus,” he said firmly. “The High Council are an even bigger group of glitches for letting you continue but there is one thing I learned from Earth and especially Prowl is that you reap what you sow. Oh, don’t bother looking for me because this is the last time you will ever see _me_.” His servo came up as though to turn off the recording but paused and he turned his attention back to the screen, leaning in close. “Before I forget, let me give you some advice. Power tends to corrupt, so you better watch yourself or the bot that comes after your energon won’t be a Decepticon.” There was a click followed by a brief burst of static and the data pad went blank where it soon went flying through the air where it shattered against the locked door as an enraged Magnus went around destroying his office while cursing a canary yellow bumbler.

* * *

Aboard a simple ship a tall, slender mech was looking over the console before him. The coordinates were accurate, but it would take time to arrive safely, especially since he didn’t want anyone to see them going anywhere. But then again, this ship was much different from the one his love used to own.

_‘I never would have thought of Swindle of all mechs to be reasonable,’_ he thought to himself with a wry smirk.

“What are you smirking about?” came a vocalizer from behind as small digits slid around his shoulders from behind.

“I had heard rumors and tales that our salesmech was a bot who could take every cred you had long before you could process what just happened,” he answered, leaning into the smaller mech and reaching out to wrap his servo around his slender waist as he pressed his frame into his side.

“Yeah, and it wasn’t just Decepticons he conned either.” Venting softly the minibot watched him type away at the console but it didn’t take him long to turn the seat around and climb onto the other mech’s lap, smiling down at him his digits slid over and began to gently trace his newly constructed faceplates, watching as his lover leaned into them with soft, gentle purrs of pleasure. “So, this is what you looked like before?” he asked softly.

“… Its been so long, even with the images that Coldfire had managed to find, I could not remember,” he admitted softly. Looking at the images and even the video files of the empurata ritual, it didn’t feel like it was him. The burnt orange and dark brown servos gently lifted his faceplates up and smooth derma pressed against his own. His servos, now with actual and functioning digits, wrapped around the slender frame, pulling him closer. The reconstruction had been successful, but since he couldn’t remember who he used to be, the doctor had given him a new identity. The blockers that had been placed deep in his processor were being broken down code by code so he was slowly regaining the emotions he thought had been lost forever, but that didn’t matter. Shockwave was gone, as well as Bumblebee. Gone was his tall, sharp, dark violet frame and replaced with a dark silver frame with several dark accents, making him almost resemble a seeker without the wings. The minibot sitting on his lap was more compact, a dark burnt gold color but broken up with the random ragged streak of deep brown. There was also the occasional spike that showed he was not to be underestimated. The both of them pulled back from the kiss but didn’t pull back completely, forehelms resting against the other.

“New chance at a lifecycle, Shockey,” the smaller mech smiled at him, wrapping his slender digits around his neck cables. “Thought of a new designation yet?”

“No, not yet. Though I admit I am finding it difficult to refer to you as Yellow Jacket even with your new, enticing frame,” he murmured, sliding his digits along his sides, purposely tracing seams he leaned forward and lightly nipped at the slender neck cables. “At least you still make the sweet of sounds, my sweet little Bee…”

“S-shut up… ahh…!” Even with new plating he still retained a lot of his original sensors although his lover was more than happy to explore everything as though it was the first time. It didn’t stop him from doing the same, shivering as he felt him growl against him, the vibrations spreading into him and causing lubricant to fill his valve. “Shockey… oh Primus, please!”

“Please, what? You have to be more specific,” he murmured into his audio receiver, servos slipping to the other mech’s aft and pulling him close, rubbing their rapidly heated interface panels together. He groaned aloud at the sharp cry his lover let out, the way his servos dug into sensitive seams.

“F-Frag, frag me!” Bee shouted aloud, a hot rush of heat filling his faceplates as his panel immediately snapped open. He was dimly aware of another panel snapping open as he was lifted only to feel the floor of the ship pressing into his backplates, a pulsing hot frame moving between his stabilizers, possessive and hungry lip plates taking his for a passionate kiss even as a servo took his, digits intertwining together. “Sh… Shockey… I love you…”

“… I know,” the taller mech said, smiling he squeezed the servo he gently pinned as he arched forward, taking his lover and watching him cry out as he was filled by his spike. “I love you, Bee.”

**Author’s Notes:** I think this is the longest chapter so far, and well, the fluffy angst bunny of writing hit me! He carries a rubber mallet but it still hurts. (rubs head) Anyway, this was a bit of a challenge since Shockwave is a mech that thinks of nothing but pure logic. But then again, I’ve never known Shockwave to actually go undercover as an Autobot either. Anyway, reading about his history via the comics I was shocked to see that Shockwave used to be a normal mech and was punished by having his head and hands forcefully changed to the mech we know him now. No wonder he thinks the way he did! So that’s when the Fluffball of Dread came hopping along and proceeded to wallop me into writing this.

Star, I hope you enjoyed it and thanks you once more for requesting this pairing. To everyone else, I hope you enjoyed this as well so please leave a review. Next chapter is a doozle and it’s for the very talented JazztheTiger. In other words, that one will be one hell of a smutlet (snickers)


	11. AutobotsxBumblebee (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bee wasn’t sure what happened, and maybe he did have too much high-grade, and maybe he lost his seals to the jettwins, but why was he looking at his team in a different light? When did the Elite Guard start looking so good? This scout is on a mission to find out by taking on the mechs one at a time.

**Disclaimer:** Transformers: Animated and everything related belongs to the rightful company Hasbro. I am in no way shape or form making money off this.

**Author’s Notes:** Bee wasn’t sure what happened, and maybe he did have too much high-grade, and maybe he lost his seals to the jettwins, but why was he looking at his team in a different light? When did the Elite Guard start looking so good? This scout is on a mission to find out by taking on the mechs one at a time.

Title: Slutty Bee (Part 1)

Pairing: AutobotsxBumblebee (Animated)

Requested: JazzTheTiger (AO3)

Soft blue optics onlined, pixelated but slowly they adjusted everything was picture perfect. Yellow tipped digits slowly reached up and cradled a matching colored helm as optics closed, a pained grunt escaping sore vocalizer. _‘What… did I do… last, cycle?’_ the mech asked himself. He thought about moving but held back when his tanks gave a lurch at the mere thought process of movement so instead he laid where he was and allowed his systems to reboot.

A new memory file notification popped up on his HUD and it made him wonder for a moment. He may not remember what he did but he certainly recorded it. Starting it up he found himself in the company of two other mechs: taller frames, slender, colors of orange-yellow and blue-gray. Derma plating curled into a smile as he remembered the two mechs as good friends. But watching the vid he felt himself lose the smile and his optics onlined in a flash and, against his better judgment, he sat up.

_‘Bad idea. Really bad idea!’_ he groaned to himself, trying to calm the almost violent churning. The video had stopped but he was now aware that he was laying on a berth and that he wasn’t alone. When he sat up the servos wrapped around him slid down to rest in his lap, the mechs on either side of him barely stirred as they continued to recharge silently. Once his optic sensors cleared the minibot followed the servos down to their respective owners, Jetstorm and Jetfire. He felt a wave of confusion flow through him, followed quickly by recognition, then a mix of surprise, arousal, and embarrassment. Now he was remembering bits and pieces more clearly, especially some rather intimate details, details that was causing his interface components to warm up-

No. No no no! The twins were some of his best friends and he was not going to think of them in such a way! But it didn’t stop the shiver of pleasure as he tried moving off the berth, servos sliding off his frame, leaving small trails of heat behind. Moving to the end of the berth he had to stop when his tanks gave another lurch and a low fuel indicator popped up in his HUD but he froze when he heard movement and turned to his berthmates. Jetfire had rolled into the spot Bumblebee had just vacated, venting softly he wrapped his servos around Jetstorm who was more than willing to do the same to him, their engines letting out soft purrs of contentment. The minibot found himself longing to be sandwiched between them once more, to feel their servos holding him close, digits caressing seams and stroking cables in between gaps, doing the same as their frames began heating up-

With an angry (mental) snarl the yellow mech forced himself from the berth, moving carefully to a table that still held at least half a cube of high-grade from last night as several empty containers that had been shared among the three of them. Without pausing he grabbed it and made his way to the adjoined washroom off to the side. It was simple and he didn’t bother with the lights as he stumbled to the shower and turned it on. The solvent was cold so he waited for it to warm up and drank at the cube he still held, feeling a pleasant warmth as the fuel filled his tank and rushed through the cables in his frame.

_‘Wish they knew where they got this from,’_ he thought to himself, remembering that the twins had said they had found it in storage but for some reason it had been hidden by other boxes. Once he was done the warmth had spread through every part of his frame and he felt good but he still moved into the shower and moaned lowly as the now warmed solvent rained down on him. He stood there for a while, enjoying the feeling he slowly began moving his servos over his plating, slowing down when he traced over dents and marks he just knew happened last night. The warmth was now steadily growing, his systems were reporting his core temperature increasing and his sensory network was becoming more sensitive but it didn’t stop him from continuing. He paused when he reached between his stabilizers when his digits came away slick; lifting them he noted the traces of silvery white fluids that he knew was definitely not solvent and bit down on his bottom derma plating as his interface components gave a subtle throb. Unbidden the memory file resumed playing and this time he didn’t bother to stop it.

_Bee knew the twins were close, but he never realized they were that close. He also knew it wasn’t polite to be staring at them but he couldn’t help but watch the way their servos slid over one another’s frame, or ignore the rising whirl of their cooling fans. In the back of his processor he thought that with Jetstorm being the oldest he would be more dominating, but it was Jetfire that had him pinned to the berth, digits firmly stroking at the blue-gray panel to which the owner was letting out such needy sounds._

_“B-Brother… is needing…” the visored mech whimpered, hips bucking up into the warm servo. With one servo holding himself up, the other could only grip at his twin, their friend momentarily forgotten. He moaned lowly as his panel snapped open and familiar digits rubbed at his leaking array._

_“I is knowing what you is needing,” Jetfire purred lowly, gently nipping at the neck cables bared before him. Digits stroked over the dripping valve, feeling the lubricant seeping out as blue hips arched into his touch, begging for more. This was a game the two played, seeing who could get the other off first but he moaned in response as he felt digits stroking his own panel, feeling it snap open he bucked his hips into the eager digits._

_Large blue optics watched intently as light gray digits moved between yellow orange stabilizers, stroking and rubbing at a very inviting valve. He should not be looking at them, should not be getting turned on by this, and yet here he was wanting more. So much more… Bumblebee chocked back the whimper, holding his own stabilizers even tighter together but his own servo was still rubbing at his panel, the heat growing unbearable. He wanted to pull his own panel back, to spread his stabilizers open and try and mimic what the jettwins were doing to one another but he couldn’t._

_Twin deep, revving moans broke him from his wanderings and he had to bite down on the digit of his other servo as Jetfire pushed his brother down onto his backplates, kissing him deeply as his stabilizer rubbed firmly against him, lubricant leaking out even more. Jetstorm had lifted one of his peds onto the berth to allow his twin to rub against it, leaving a thick smear of lubricant, but it was the way their frames rubbed against each other, servos stroking over sensitive seams that had him biting down on his digit even harder, his own yellow-tipped digits pressing into his panel as hard as he could, determined not to let it slide open._

_‘O-Oh Primussss… I… they’re so fragging hot… does, it really feel that good?’ He wanted to ask them about it but he was afraid if he said anything they would stop. He whimpered softly as the heat was becoming so much hotter, the pain was now overwhelming the pleasure but he was dimly aware that there was a small puddle of fluids rapidly growing beneath him. He offlined his optics, listening to the wet eager sounds of the jettwins instead. Forcing his stabilizers apart his panel immediately snapped open and this time he couldn’t stop the soft cry as the cool air hit his overheated interface components. He rubbed at his spike as it fully pressurized into his awaiting servo, spreading the transfluids as he began stroking. His fans were whirling so loudly he didn’t realize his friends had stopped and had been watching him, their own optics dark with lust and desire._

Bee let out a low groan, still remembering the feel of their digits caressing his frame, their frames pressing into his, then they were holding him open as they took turns showing him just good it felt. He flushed as he watched himself being caressed, the soft squeak he let out when Jetstorm moved behind him and lifted his stabilizers up, opening them for Jetfire who settled between them with a teasing smile that spoke a promise that it would be good.

_‘Better than good,’_ he moaned lowly as he went back to stroking his frame but this time as he reached down between his stabilizers his panel snapped back and his digits stroked at the wet mesh. The minibot bit down on his lower lip plate and leaned heavily against the wall, closing his optics as he imagined a dark yellow-orange helm moving between his stabilizers, a slick, hot glossia licking and probing his then sealed valve.

_“Is good?” Jetstorm purred into his audio, firmly stroking the stabilizer still in his hold the other stroked and pumped his rapidly leaking spike, rubbing a digit over the tip and lightly squeezing the base. Bee could only answer with a weak whimper, hips trying to buck for more contact but a servo on his hip kept him pinned._

_“Is tasting good,” Jetfire murmured against the flexible seal, tracing the rim with his glossia. He had been surprised when they found their yellow friend was sealed, they both were, but he wanted it. He lavished the silicone membrane firmly once more, moaning lowly as he felt part of the seal begin to give and allowed some of the lubricant to escape. He stroked the stabilizer he was holding up when it tensed, pressing his derma firmly against the seal to swallow the slick fluids._

_‘Ooh Primus… feels… feels good, great even!’ Bumblebee panted softly, servos gripping at whatever he could reach. He whimpered when he tried to move, to buck his hips up for more contact but the servos firmly held them open, restricting him. A very soft, almost inaudible broken cry managed to escape his vocalizer, trying to voice what he wanted but he wasn’t sure how to voice it. The touching stopped and he cried out louder, ready to beg them to continue if he had to but the twins seemed to know what he wanted before he could say anything._

_He was guided onto his chassis where he nuzzled the blue chassis, purring softly as a servo gently stroked one of the horns on his helm. More servos rubbed at his hips, tracing seams as he was raised onto his knees, he blushed brightly as his stabilizers were coaxed open and squeaked in surprise as a very warm frame knelt behind him. It grew when the chassis he was laying against vibrated in laughter that he hid his faceplates away from them. “S’not funny,” Bumblebee murmured lowly; he was certain his faceplates were as bright as the planet’s star right now._

_“Is not laughing at you, sweet Bee,” Jetstorm murmured, trailing his digits up his backstrut and stroking the back of his neck cables, feeling him relax. “We is thinking you is cute.”_

_“Cute?” he asked quietly. He was not cute!_

_“Yes. You is cute when you squeak,” Jetfire explained with a smile as he leaned over him, trailing very warm servos along his sides, purposely brushing the back of his digits along his twin’s own stabilizers, making the two of them moan._

_Bee hated being called cute, it usually meant he was small but he couldn’t hold onto it for long as the pleasurable charge increased, enjoying the caresses and returning some of his own soon had the three of them eager for more. So much more. As his hips pushed back into the yellow-orange seeker he felt his spike brushed against his seal, servos gently holding his hips, waiting. He reached out, covering the servo with his own he gave it a squeeze and the next thing he knew he was crying out in a mix of pain and pleasure as the heavily pressurized spike pushed then broke through his seal, a heavy gush of lubricant spilling freely. It hurt, not as much as he thought it would but he couldn’t keep back the whimper of pain as it forced itself free. He didn’t fight it as his faceplates were lifted up, unaware that optical fluids were racing down his cheek ridges until lips gently kissed them away, soft murmurs of comfort and encouragement reaching his audio sensors. No one moved, the twins waiting until he was ready, letting him adjust to the sudden invasion. After several kliks he was the first to move, a slight movement but it caused the spike within his valve to shift and as it brushed over some newly revealed nodes he cried out but this time in pleasure. Oh so much pleasure!_

_‘C’mon Jetfire… frag me!’_ Bee moaned to himself, now leaning against the shower wall, stabilizers bent and locked in place he had one servo firmly stroking at his spike, tugging at it and rubbing the tip firmly with a digit, his other servo was thrusting two of his digits in and out and his valve, lubricant dripping freely and having it mingle with the solvent. Oh by the First Thirteen it had been amazing! The way the spike felt as it thrust in and out, the way his sensor nodes lit up one by one, the feel of lubricant spilling out with each thrust, he didn’t think it could get any better until his felt his own spike brushed against something hot and wet, looking down in time for Jetstorm to guide his yellow and black spike into _his_ valve. For a klik his processor stalled as he was being enveloped by a tight heat, cables tightening around him, trying to bring him in as deeply as he could.

_‘Jets-storm… so wet—tight… oh frag!’_ His servos began speeding up and he let out a whimper as he arched his backstrut, now eagerly thrusting three digits into his valve, the other servo squeezing the base of his spike so hard it hurt. His memory file played the video of being taken while taking, allowing the twins to set the pace, begging them to frag him more, to go harder and faster, to make him overload. They didn’t hesitate to do so as they trapped him between their frames, groping one another eagerly, nipping and kissing, stroking and sucking, Bee tried to hold out, he really was but he was the first to reach his peak as he threw his helm back and cried out a combination of their designations, the powerful charge he had building released as he overloaded into Jetstorm with a heavy rush, causing him to overload with him, his valve tightening around him so much it felt like he was trying to keep his spike trapped inside. He was dimly aware of the blue and gray spike between them released a fair amount of transfluid between them but the feel of the thick, oily fluids set him off as he cried out again and the cables in his valve immediately tightened around the thrusting spike, causing Jetfire to grunt as he buried himself so deeply in he swore he could feel his transfluid shoot up directly into his tanks. The sensation was too much, his processor couldn’t take the sensory overload and he crashed.

Optics onlined and the minibot found himself sitting on the floor of the shower, confused until he realized his spike had retracted back into its housing and his valve was tingling where he had his digits buried deeply inside. _‘Primus… I did it again…’_ Slowly he removed his servos, whimpering softly at the sensation of loss and tried to ignore the mix of lubricant and transfluid mixing with the lukewarm solvent as it went down the drain. He turned it off and grabbed a sheet to dry off as he left the washroom, wondering what he should do now when two frames ambushed him.

“Mmmph-!” Optics grew large and servos immediately gripped at the servos but he couldn’t pull back as the mech behind him held him tightly, catching a failing servo and holding it tightly. It took him a few kliks but he realized it was the Jetstorm kissing him passionately, moaning softly as their glossias tangled together and Jetfire was sucking at the sensitive cables in his neck, their four servos roaming his damp frame and rubbing at his still open panel.

“We is waiting for you, sweet Bee,” jetfire vented into his audio, licking at a seam that made the minibot whimper softly. “We is thinking, you is not liking us when you not in berth.”

“B-But… I-ngh!” he moaned as Jetstorm nipped the other side of his neck, lifting a stabilizer up. “I did li-oh Primus-like it!” he panted heavily, curling a servo around the back of Jetstorm’s neck, the other reaching around to grip Jetfire’s servo where it was rubbing at his spike’s housing.

“We is hearing you in washroom, we is waiting. But…” His words trailed off and he pulled back, tracing the slightly swollen lip plates with a digit, his optic visor a deep blue. “… I is wanting taste, sweet Bee.”

“T… tas-taste…?” He knew what he meant, it took him a kklik but he understood. Swallowing Bumblebee nodded and watched as the blue seeker smiled and began to kiss and lick a trail down his frame, paying extra attention to his most sensitive spots. Soon the seeker was on his knees, lifting a stabilizer Bee blushed when he kissed the inside of it, having it rest over his shoulder he watched and as soon as a slick glossia licked at his valve he cried out and would have fallen if Jetfire didn’t tighten his hold around him.

“You be enjoying more, brother is good very,” the other seeker murmured proudly, guiding the servo to wrap around the back of his neck cables and wrapped both servos around his frame, digits tracing and rubbing at his spike housing he nuzzled the neck cables, humming softly as the minibot tilted his helm to the side to give him more room.

Jetstorm moaned lowly as he licked at the smaller mech’s valve, still tasting the solvent from the shower but he could especially taste the lubricant that clung to the mesh plating. He looked up when he felt a small servo touch his helm but felt digits gently trailed over one of the fins on the side, making him purr. Leaning in he gave a firm lick as he parted the mech’s folds with his glossia, roughly caressing the very sensitive nodes lining the inside.

“Frag!!” The bright yellow mech couldn’t help it as his entire frame tense, backstrut arching, stabilizer kicking out but it was so slagging good! “P-Pleassse… more!!” he begged softly, struggling not to grip the helm harder when the Elite Guard wordlessly obeyed. The familiar charge was building up once more, rapidly heating up his system he wasn’t aware that there were tiny currents of electricity dancing over his frame; Bee whimpered as he felt the glossia eagerly lick away the lubricant, cried out softly as digits pushed their way inside and stroked at cables and nodes. His spike threatened to pressurized but digits firmly held it down, causing another wave of delicious pain to mingle with the pleasure. The charge grew, the electricity dancing along his frame, leaving a delightful tingle in its wake. He opened his derma to beg them for more but a servo gently tilted his helm back and he cried into the mouth of the mech as he sealed their lips together, clinging to him as their glossia twined together in a dance.

The sensual assault continued on, digits thrusting deeply yet gently into his still tight valve, scissoring them in time with the eager licks. The minibot squirmed in their hold, reaching down to grip at Jetstorm’s helm, stroking a helm fin and the other reached around to grip at Jetfire’s hip. His processor felt like it was lagging, unable to cope with the sensory overload he was feeling but he wanted more, he wanted to be fragged into another intense overload. He gasped as he was lifted into the air and dropped onto the berth with a soft omph, slightly dazed but it didn’t last long as his stabilizers were spread open and a frame moved between them, soon followed by a spike as it speared him to the hilt. The sharp flash of pain and pleasure made him cry out, whimpering softly he couldn’t help but push back into the rapid thrusts, crying out for more.

“Harder! Faster! Oh Primus, more!” he cried out, vocalizer breaking up in small bursts of static as he continued to cry out. His spike, now free of its housing, was begging to be touched, transfluids running from the tip to pool around the base but he watched with slightly pixelated optics as Jetfire straddled his hips, reaching down to grab a hold of his black and yellow cable and guide it into a very hot, very wet valve. “Jetfire! Jetstorm! Oh gods, please frag me! Make me overload!” he begged them, servos scrambling for purchase he reached out, grabbing a pale yellow-orange spike and firmly began stroking it. The charged increased to the point where now the electrical currents were visible and they danced along all three of their frames, causing their sensory network to skyrocket.

It seemed to be what the younger twin needed as he began rocking his own hips over the smaller mech’s, tightening his cables around the spike each time he pulled up then slammed back down. He moved in perfect sync with the older twin, slamming down as he thrusted in then pulling up as he pulled out; it was such a sight and experience, fragging while being fragged, Bee struggled to hold it back, keening sharply as he longed to prolong the pleasure but it was coming too fast. He tried to warn the twins, tried to get them to slow down but they refused and his overload hit him hard, frame arching into them, his spike and valve releasing the build up of fluids, clutching the spike tightly in his servo. His processor threatened to shut down, warning of an impending crash but he forced himself to stay online, eagerly pushing back and up into the two mechs as he felt they had yet to overload themselves. Low energy reserves popped up in his HUD but he ignored it and instead begged the mechs for more, to try and make him crash. The jettwins said nothing but they managed to make the minibot overload once more before surrendering to their own desires and granted him the overload he was begging for, pumping his over-sensitive valve full of so much transfluid to mingle with his lubricant and tightening around the spike, trying to milk every drop out of him. The three of them rode out their pleasure together, fluids staining their condensation-soaked plating, cooling fans struggling to keep running, their systems running too hot but they dropped down onto the berth, weakly clinging to each other as they fell into a forced stasis just long enough to regain enough energy to move on their own. For Bumblebee, he finally felt some of the intense charge leaving him but he had no idea that this was only the beginning.

* * *

The yellow speedster didn’t think he would be so happy to be back at the warehouse, racing inside he skidded to a stop and transformed though he winced as he stretched. Okay, maybe he should have waited a bit longer before leaving the SteelHaven but he didn’t want anyone to come looking for him.

_‘Still can’t believe I got fragged by them more than once,’_ he thought to himself. Holy slag that had been amazing, and so much better than self-servicing with his servo anytime so why was he feeling guilty about it? Shaking his helm he decided not to think about it and headed deeper into the warehouse, but he blinked in surprise when he saw it was empty. “Hey! Anybot home?” he called out but there was no answer. “… okay…” Shrugging he debated heading to his room but he shuddered his optics as a grin came to his faceplates. If no one was here, then he could do the one thing he always wanted to do and no one could say anything! Turning to his favorite radio station he was pleased to hear it was in the middle of playing music non-stop with no commercials for the remainder of the afternoon. Turning the music as loud as he could the minibot began dancing to the beat, trying to mimic some of the dance moves that he had seen on the entertainment screen. Soon he was in the zone as he continued dancing to the music, enjoying himself and even singing to some of the songs he knew he never heard two engines coming closer until a black and gold-trimmed motorcycle and a white sports car drove into the factory and transformed into two nearly identical robots.

Jazz couldn’t help the small smile as he watched the minibot dancing around as he sang some song, clearly enjoying himself. Clearly, he was taking advantage of having the entire factory to himself and having a great time in the process. But looking at the other Cyber Ninja he could see that he was not happy. “Hey, coulda been worse,” he pointed out in hopes of getting him to loosen up.

“What could be worse than him playing that noise to audio splitting levels?” he demanded with a frown.

“Well-” But before he could come up with an answer the minibot let out a loud yell (he was certain he still singing) and onlined his optics as he turned, facing them then let out a startled yelp and tripped over his peds as he tried back up only to land roughly on his backplates.

“Ow! I think I dented my aft,” Bumblebee muttered even as he rubbed at he bruised plating. He looked up when he heard a muffled snicker and glared at the taller mechs standing in front of him. “S’not funny! And when did you two get back?” he demanded, just a tad embarrassed.

Jazz couldn’t stop grinning, but it didn’t stop him from moving forward to see if the smaller mech was okay. “Sorry Bee, thought ya woulda heard us comin’ in jus’ now.”

“He might have been able to hear us if he was listening to that noise at such high levels,” Prowl commented as he watched them.

“Hey! I told you its not noise, its music!” the scout snapped as he stepped in front of the Cyber Ninja. “You don’t even listen to music, all you do is hum in your room.”

“What I do in my berthroom is my own choosing, and I do not need to listen to this planet’s forms of entertainment to know what is considered noise,” he argued back.

“‘Cuz you’re so uptight! You wouldn’t know fun if it fell on your helm!”

“You could stand to learn some patience and respect without me having to remind you every klik of the solar cycle!”

“Whoa hey mechs, ease up!” Jazz said as he purposely moved between the two arguing bots, pushing them apart. “I thought ya two were friends?”

“Why would I wanna be friends with a hard-aft like him?!” Bumblebee snapped.

Prowl looked like he wanted to say something the way his servos clenched into fists; instead he turned sharply and headed to his berthroom, the door whooshing close behind him. Jazz vented softly, knowing that the other mech was very upset and needed a chance to calm down.

“Bee, I know Prowl can seem… rigid-”

“Like he’s got Sentinel’s lance stuffed right up his aft?”

“… didn’t need to picture that. But Prowl likes things to be calm and quiet, he’s a peaceful mech. You… well, you’re the opposite.”

“So what, I’m loud and annoying?” the yellow mech grumbled as he crossed his servos over his chassis.

“Just listen ta me. You’re not like Prowl, ya act like ya were sparked here which is really cool. Besides, I really dig your moves.”

“Really? I got a bunch of other dance moves I can show you and I heard this song on the radio I think you’ll like! I knew you were way cooler than Prowl!” But before Bee could lead the other Cyber Ninja to his berthroom he was stopped.

“I’d really like that but I promised Prowl I’d help him with his ninja training.” Giving him a weak smile, he rested his servo on his shoulder. “How about later?”

“Oh. Y-Yeah, everyone is always saying training is more important…” He looked away, suddenly feeling as though he was being left out of everything. Just like always. He jumped when he felt a servo rest on his helm and immediately batted it off, scowling at eh white mech. “Cut it out! I’m not a sparkling!”

“No, but ya act like one. Seriously though, I’ll hang out with ya later.” Nodding the white mech left him, heading for the hall that led to the berthrooms. Bumblebee watched him go and found himself smiling a bit. At least Jazz was as rigid as Prowl, he at least was willing to give New Detroit and the humans a chance which was waaay more than Sentinel ever could. And he was nice to him and shared similar interests that he did even if he did spend a lot of his time with prowl doing some secret ninja training.

_‘Wonder what kinda training they’re doing,’_ he thought to himself. He could try and listen in through the door but Jazz was right, Prowl was always quiet so it would be near impossible to hear anything. Except… a grin crossed his derma plates as he thought of the perfect way to spy on the ninjas and the best part, they would never realize he was there! _‘Better hurry before I miss anything good!’_

* * *

“He will never learn, Jazz. How many times must I explain that to you?”

“I hear ya, but he’s got a lot of energy to burn. Maybe he could learn to channel that energy into somethin’ else.”

Optics widen behind the gold-colored visor in surprise. “You cannot be telling me that I should train him in the ancient art of Metallikato??”

“Now I didn’t say that, ya did.” Even with his mirrored blue visor on anyone who knew the white mech knew he was grinning just from his posture. “Would it really be that bad?”

“Yes, yes it would.”

As the two ninjas continued their discussion a yellow figure was carefully making his way through the green foliage of the large tree, being careful not to step on a branch that looked too flimsy to support his mass. He froze each time he heard the leaves rustling or a branch creak before moving along. A servo reached out and carefully parted the leaves, baby blue optics narrowing as they caught sight of the two two slender mechs.

_‘I made it to the roof and climbed into the tree and neither of them ever noticed! Ha! Take that, ninja bot!’_ Bumblebee cheered to himself. But he could not hear what they were talking about. At this point part of his processor was telling him to just stay there and see how long it would take Prowl to realize he was in his precious tree, but he was curious about what they were talking about and why did Prowl look annoyed at Jazz? Moving slowly the scout laid himself down on the branch so he was straddling it and began moving forward, trying to be as quiet as possible. Not his best choice as the rough bark scraped along his armor plating, especially those along the inside of his stabilizers and his interface panel but he ignored it as he could just barely hear them talking now.

“… he’d even want to learn… dedicate himself to it?”

“… tried askin’ him?”

“No. But I know… wasted effort.

“I bet alotta of bots… Master Yoketron took ya in.”

“… we are too different… If you want to train… call you any degrading names.”

_‘Wait, train? Train who? And where have I heard that designation before,’_ Bee frowned, leaning forward, hoping to hear something but he froze when he heard something cracking. He clung to the branch tightly when he felt it shake under his mass and looking behind him felt his optics widen when he saw part of the branch starting to crack. _‘Uh oh.’_ Okay, maybe this wasn’t a good idea and he tried pushing himself back, ignoring the rough texture along the thinner plating, how it was creating a wonderful friction that made him want to moan but he froze when he heard the branch continued to crack. _‘Okay I either stay here and keep trying to scoot back, or I move onto another branch and get outta here.’_ He quickly decided to go for the second option and slowly, carefully, sat up. His arms pinwheeled for a few kliks when the branch he was straddling continued to crack and drop but he reached up and quickly grabbed another branch above him and with a soft grunt, lifted himself up so his stabilizers were hanging on the branch. Now he was hanging upside down from it and just in time as the branch he had been sitting on broke, crashing through several smaller branches and onto the floor.

“… oops.” Now his best idea and Bumblebee quickly looked around, expecting both ninjas to be looking at him and bracing himself for the yelling but there was nothing. He looked around but there was nothing. Keeping his stabilizers locked around the tree he slowly let go and continued looking around but there was no sign of either Jazz or, more importantly, Prowl. But, surely, they heard the branch breaking then falling so where did they go-?

**“Bumblebee!!”**

Said scout couldn’t help the startled yelp that escaped his vocalizer and looked down to see a very irate Prowl looking down at him from the very branch he was hanging upside down from. He never heard the ninja move and he knew he was in big trouble judging from the frown he had directed right at him. “Prowl! I-I can explain-” A bit of a blessing, a bit of a curse, but the branch both mechs were on was weaker than the one Bumblebee was on as it immediately broke and both were sent plunging down. The black and gold ninja was quick enough to find a much sturdier branch but the scout wasn’t, yelling and shutting his optics tightly, trying to brace himself for the impact of his smaller frame to slam into the ground but it never came. After a few tense astroseconds he onlined his optics only to find himself in the servos of the other Cyber ninja and he was looking at him in concern.

“J-Jazz? Wha… what happened?”

“Ya fell outta the tree, mech. Ya alright?” he asked him.

“Y… Y-Yeah… um, t-thanks?” Oh great, now he could feel his faceplates heating up but thankfully Jazz didn’t say anything as he lowered him to his peds. Before he could say anything, he looked up and he swore he could feel all the energon drain away at the furious look he was giving him. “Prowl, I-”

“How many times have I told you not climb my tree?! Now because of your carelessness you broke two of the branches!” he said angrily.

“But you-”

“It seems no matter what I tell you you do the opposite. Can you not respect a mech’s rules and stay out of his berthroom?!”

“Hey Prowl, maybe ya should calm down,” Jazz said as he tried to talk the other ninja down but Bumblebee couldn’t take it anymore and exploded right back at his teammate.

“It’s a tree, Prowl, they grow branches like that all the time! And Sari said people climb them, that’s what they’re here for! And it was your fat aft on that second branch that made it break and made me fall!” he yelled right back at him.

“That doesn’t explain what you’re doing trespassing in my berthroom without my permission.”

“If I had knocked and asked to come in would you have let me in?”

“No.”

“See! You always think you’re better than me!”

“I do not! But then again I don’t go wasting a majority of the solar cycle acting like a mech who still clearly has the processing speed of a sparkling.”

“Stop treating me like a sparkling, you-you slagger!!”

“Both of ya knock it off before I knock both of ya on your afts!!” Jazz yelled and he forcefully pushed the two mechs away from one another, putting himself between them. “Look, I don’t get what ya deal is but if ya two wanna keep workin’ under Optimus then ya two better start getting along or else Ultra Magnus will find better bots to take ya place. And I’m lookin’ at you, too, Prowl.”

“I have done nothing but listen to him since I joined his team,” Prowl replied but after a klik he released a heavy vent of air from his systems. “But, you are correct… I am sorry for yelling at you and causing you to fall from my tree, Bumblebee.”

The minibot huffed as he crossed his servos over his chassis once more. “And?”

“… and for insinuating that you retain the processor of a sparkling.”

Bumblebee was not about to forgive the ninja but seeing the look Jazz was giving him vented harshly as he forced the words out. “I’m, sorry for sneaking into your room and spying on the both of you.” He glanced at Jazz who nodded for him to continue. “And I’m sorry for breaking your tree… and for calling you a slagger.” _‘Even if you are one,’_ he added to himself in his helm.

Jazz looked at them before breaking into a grin and slapped the two on their backplates. “Knew ya two were friends! So Bee, why were you spying on us?”

Righting himself from nearly falling over from the mech’s heavy slap, Bee rubbed at the back of his neck cables. “Well, you said you were gonna help Prowl with some ninja training, and I was wondering what kinda training it was,” he admitted. “And maybe… you could teach me something?”

The white mech shuddered his optics behind his visor and took a klik before breaking into a bigger smile. “I think that’s a cool idea. In fact, I bet Prowl would be more than happy to get ya started.” He didn’t have to look to know that his fellow ninja went completely stiff at the suggestion.

“Now wait a klik-”

“But, why can’t you teach me?” Bee asked just a tad disappointed.

“Ah can try, but ah have my servos full with the twins. And besides, ah bet ya can learn from Prowl than ya can from me.” Leaning down he wrapped his arm around his shoulder and leaned in to whisper into his audio, “Try askin’ him nicely, I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

Once more heat flushed through the cables in his faceplates, making him practically glow but he found himself stuttering “yes” and soon found himself looking up at the impassive face of the last bot he wanted to talk to. But Jazz’s arm around his shoulders felt comforting and nice. “Prowl… will, will you please teach me how to be a Cyber ninja? Like you?” He originally wanted to say “like Jazz” but something told him not to.

Prowl blinked behind his visor, finding himself hesitant to tell him no but the way Bumblebee was looking up at him, optics bright and hopeful, he gave in with a quiet “yes.” He expected the surprised cheer but not for the frame-denting embrace that nearly sent him on his aft. “B-Bumblebee!”

“Thank you thank you thank you!! I promise I’ll listen to whatever you say and do whatever it takes!!” the scout said happily, his servos locked around the slender frame, his engine giving a happy purr. Jazz was still grinning and shrugged when a glare was sent his way.

After getting the minibot to release him Prowl decided to begin their lessons with meditation. He was expecting the yellow mech to loudly complain about it being boring but so far he was listening with rapt attention. The three of them were now sitting facing one another beneath the tree, trying to clear their processor but for Bumblebee this was proving a little bit more difficult than he thought it would be.

_‘This is really boring, why can’t we do this in front of the TV?’_ he asked himself once more. He wished he could play some of his music but his mentor had been very firm that it be quiet with no interruptions. Venting softly he tried to get himself to relax and focus on nothing but they were interrupted when there was a small burst of static. Jazz gave them an apologetic grin.

“Sorry ma mechs, somethin’ got Sentinel mad as the Pitt ‘bout somethin’. Lemme just check what’s goin’ on,” he told them even as he got to his peds then left the room.

“So… should we wait for him?” Bee asked the other ninja who barely moved since they had begun.

“No. Now, remember what I said. Meditation is the art of relaxation so offline your optics and clear your processor,” he reminded him.

“Right. Don’t think about anything.” Bumblebee mimicked Prowl’s pose and tried but the harder he tried the more frustrated he was becoming. He wasn’t used to sitting still, he wanted to move! Even when he played Sari’s video games he was moving, doing something; he was a mech of action! But speaking of action, he was thinking about how the Cyber Ninja moved during battles, how he always looked like he as in control of the situation, and how calm he always appeared.

_‘Until I come along.’_ Normally the minibot thought that was an accomplishment he could boast about but now he was feeling conflicted. Venting softly he onlined his optics but he found himself staring at the other mech. If he didn’t know any better he would think he was actually recharging but he could hear his systems at all. _‘He makes it look so easy,’_ he thought to himself but now looking at him he was watching the way the light from outside was shining down on him, the way the gold trim on his plating shimmered, how warm he felt when he hugged him (he still didn’t know where that had come from) but his processor was picturing him in various situations that had nothing to do with their current training. Was this really all Prowl and Jazz had planned today, sitting around doing nothing? He thought they were going to do something that actually looked like training. With a start Bumblebee found his processor supplied with images of what they could be doing but to his surprise they were much more reminiscence of his activities with the jettwins. He tried ignoring them but the harder he tried the more images came. He didn’t realize his cooling fans had kicked on until he heard one of the objects of his fantasy speak his designation. “Wha-What?” he stuttered slightly.

Prowl vented deeply and wondered why he had agreed in the first place. “Bumblebee, are you serious about training to be a Cyber ninja? If you cannot handle a simple meditation exercise than you are clearly not ready for the rest of the training regiments,” he pointed out with more care than he would have normally used.

“B-But I do wanna be like you! I just-!” He bit down on his bottom lip plate and slowly looked away.

“Just what? What’s wrong, Bumblebee?” The smaller mech refused to answer him, to even look at him but he knew something was wrong and as much as the bot annoyed him, he was still his friend. “Please, talk to me so I can help you.”

“… you, really wanna help me?” came the mumbled answer, fans picking up their speed a notch instead of slowing down but neither of the bots said anything.

“Yes, of course-” Optics widen behind the gold-colored visor as the minibot leaned forward and kissed him boldly. He felt his processor suffer a minor glitch, actions frozen as it reset his systems but in those brief kliks the bright yellow scout climbed onto his lap, stabilizers wrapping loosely around his slender frame, servos reached up to hold his stunned faceplates gently. The ninja’s systems were heating up quickly and his own servos felt like they were made of lead as they came to rest around his slim waist, just beneath the bulky plating. He was more surprised when he found he was kissing him back, surprised at how skilled the smaller bot was but when he felt the smallest flicker of a glossia brushing against his derma he pulled back with an audible gasp.

Bumblebee was cycling air rapidly, his fuel pumps racing; he knew his faceplates were bright red but he was surprised to see the same look on the other mech as well. “Prowl?” he called out quietly as his servos slid down to grip his shoulder plating.

“You… You don’t have to do this, Bumblebee,” he spoke quietly and winced slightly at the flash of hurt in those baby blue optics. “If you want me to train you all you have to do is ask me. You don’t owe me anything,” he quickly explained and braced himself for his immediate removal but watching the helm drop he was surprised to find the frame was trembling. “Bumblebee… are-are you alright?”

“I… I’m sorry, Prowl… jus-just…” Oh primus, what in the name of the AllSpark was wrong with him? He couldn’t stop the optic fluids from building up and sliding down his cheek ridges. He lifted a servo up to wipe at them but they kept falling. Then to further his embarrassment, he found himself admitting to the ninja that he had a crush on him since they first met but he always got the feeling that he didn’t like him. “I-I thought maybe, if I could be a-a-a ninja like you, y-you’d like me mo-more,” he hiccuped softly, pushing at the other mech, ignoring the heady rush of heat flooding his system but the servos refused to let him go. He refused to look at the ninja, not wanting to see him giving him a pity look but he found himself leaning into the servo as it wiped the oily tears away, offlining his optics as he helm was tilted up, and gasped softly as he was kissed. It took a single astrosecond for his processor to register he wasn’t being pushed away and found himself kissing the other mech back. The kiss was broken and Bee onlined his optics to register that Prowl was telling him something but he didn’t give him a chance to finish as he resumed the kiss, wrapping his servos around the back of the ninja’s neck cables to pull him close enough that he could feel his spark pulsing between two thick layers of armor plating.

Instincts overrode logistic circuitry as the two mechs continued kissing, glossias licking at derma plating, coaxing them to open before a deep moan echoed around them when it succeeded. Prowl was once more taken back at how talented Bumblebee was at this but as much as he wanted to ask him where he learned to kiss like this he didn’t want to pull away. Groaning softly his own servos roamed the black and yellow mech on his lap, tracing seams and growing bolder each time the frame pressed back with a low purr of pleasure, asking for more. He didn’t realize he was being coaxed to lay back until he felt the floor warmed by the planet’s star at his backplates. He watched as the minibot slowly sat up, breaking the kiss and, much to his chagrin, his own engine gave a deep purr at the sight of the yellow scout kneeling over him, optics dark and dim with a clear indication that he was charged up. Needless to say, so was he.

“I really do have a crush on you, Prowl… but lately, I’ve been finding it a lot easier to act on my desires,” the speedster said with a small smile as he leaned down and kissed the corner of his lip plates, taking his time and kissing a trail down, licking at the neck plates his engine let out another purr as the ninja tilted his helm back, allowing him further access. “You know… I was thinking about you, that’s why I couldn’t meditate,” he continued to tell him as he continued licking and kissing his way down, servos reaching out to trace over transformation seams, digits slipping between gaps to caress and stroke at wires and cables, enjoying the way the slender frame revved and heated up. Allowing their cod pieces to rub against one another he moaned and lightly traced the edges of the Autobot insignia on his chassis with the tip of his glossia.

Prowl managed to keep the deep moan from escaping his vocalizer but he was unable to keep his engine from revving up, the vibrations spreading from him into the smaller frame atop his own. Hearing him let out a squeak of surprise he couldn’t help but find it endearing and reached up, gripping Bumblebee firmly by the yellow hips and gave his engines another rev. The sensation was stronger than before, vibrations sending a wonderful feeling through his systems (didn’t help when the slightly bulkier frame atop of him would grind down as the vibrations passed into him), he wasn’t too surprised to realize his spike was beginning to pressurize behind his protective panel. He was surprised that with each swipe of the slick glossia tracing the edges of his holo-projector made the charge he was feeling even stronger. Soon the sounds of their engines revving was blending with the sounds of cooling fans running hard and heavy. His servos gripped at the smaller mech as he felt him sliding further down, fighting the urge to grab at him and pull him up but he was torn between kissing him or feeling his glossia on the sensitive seams on his chassis.

Bumblebee didn’t need to reach down to his panel to know that he was leaking so much lubricant it was seeping out of the seams. He rubbed his stabilizers together in a failed effort to suppress the throbbing ache in his valve and focus on the slightly domed plating. Looking up the frame he flushed when he realized he could see optics studying him intently behind the visor, puffs of heated air brushing over the hot panel he blinked as it immediately slid open and a dark gray and dark gold spike sprung freely, fully pressurized and leaking quite a bit of transfluid. It was impressive, a bit bigger than either of the jettwins but looking back at the owner’s faceplates he decided to put on a bit of a show for him. Refusing to look away he lowered his helm and dragged his glossia from the base of the spike all the way up the underside, licking up the transfluid along the way. He reached out with his servo to slowly stroke the spike and began lapping at the tip, purring deeply at the oily taste coating his glossia.

The ninja couldn’t believe what he was seeing, even as he forced himself to sit up on an elbow joint he reached out (Primus, why couldn’t he get his servo to stop shaking?) and rubbed at the minibot’s helm, a digit rubbing along the base of a horn. He found himself smiling at the deep purr he let out, watching him lean into the gently touch as his optics dimmed even more. He wanted to say something, either to stop or to continue but he couldn’t speak. Instead he gently pulled the yellow helm down as his hips bucked up ever so slightly, hoping he would understand the message he was sending him. There was no doubt as he watched those soft derma plates wrapped around the tip of his spike, nimble digits squeezing the base of his spike as he slowly slid down, taking him deeper inside. The sensation of his mouth was so hot and wet, the slick feeling of his glossia lapping along the tip, the suction as the transfluid was swallowed, it was enough to make him release the groan he had been trying to contain.

“B-Bumblebee…” It took him several kliks to realize he was the one who moaned his designation but he didn’t care. He also failed to realized that his friend and fellow Cyber ninja had returned to the room and was watching the scene unfold before him.

Jazz still didn’t understand what Sentinel was going on about, so listening to him yell about something having gone missing for nearly two solid breems made his audio receivers ring but he knew he should get back before the dark blue Prime tore into the jettwins like he did with him. Opening the door to the room he walked in and was about to apologize about cutting the training session short when he heard something incredibly loud echoing in the room followed by the most arousing scene he had ever seen. Part of him demanded that he do something, to quickly and quiet leave the berthroom, to somehow gain their attention so the two mechs would stop, or to move closer and hope they would let him join in. He settled for the fourth option and stayed frozen where he stood, taking in every sight, sound, and smell he could detect. The two mechs were at an angle and he swallowed thickly as he watched the way Bumblebee’s mouth and servo worked over the spike, that the mech seemed too familiar with such an intimate act, and not showing the least bit of hesitation that someone sealed would possess. But he inquiry was answered as he heard the tale tell sound of a panel snapping open and clamped his jaw tightly shut at the sight of a heavily lubricant valve, the silvery pink fluids making trails down the slender black stabilizers and pooled onto the floor.

_‘Hoooly frag… t-thought the mech—was sealed, or somethin’…’_ he thought to himself, reaching down to try and keep his own cod piece from sliding open, ignoring the sting of the burning hot panel against his digits. If he was careful he could still leave these two to their actions, they would never know he was here-

Pale blue optics grew wide as they focused on those sleek yellow digits, watching the way they moved through the lubricant, smearing it before moving up to tease and rub at the wet folds. The minibot made a soft sound and took the rest of the spike into his oral cavity, the other servo sliding up and down the heaving chassis. Prowl had his helm thrown back, his entire frame covered in a fine sheen of condensation, shaking hard enough for his plating to rattle but with one servo clutching at the floor the other gripped at the yellow helm, the scout’s designation escaping his vocalizer. Jazz watched, dimly aware of his own panel sliding open and his spike pressurizing into his awaiting servo. He shouldn’t be doing this, he really shouldn’t be doing this but he couldn’t stop himself, especially when he noticed movement and watched those yellow digits disappearing and reappearing of a slick valve. Bumblebee was initiating self-interfacing while sucking the spike off a member of his own team. The urge to move closer was so strong he found himself stumbling to the pair as his own white servo stroked and pumped his spike, coating his digits in transfluid.

The ninja bot tasted so good, different from Jetstorm and Jetfire but in a good way. It was like he was addicted to the taste and he wanted to sample all of it. Bee tried to keep up the rhythm as his helm was guided up and down, rubbing his glossia along the underside of the spike. He slowed down when the digit rubbed over a sensory horn just right, adding to his charge but it gave him a chance to swallow the rapid build-up of transfluid. His digits were busy scissoring his valve, causing a heavy load of lubricant to spill freely, nodes pulsing strongly, eager to feel the spike pounding away at him. Any discomfort he felt earlier was gone or he was just so overwhelmed with pleasure to notice, but he knew he wanted him. Dark blue optics widen when the black hips gave a sharp thrust, the servo clutching his helm tightening but he pulled up so only the tip was wrapped around his lip plates and wrapped his servo around the remainder of the spike just in time to feel the charge reach its peak and shot a heavy load of transfluid into his mouth, down his intake valve and directly into his tanks. He whimpered as his digits eagerly fragged his valve harder, trying to make himself overload as well but it was no use as the spike slid free. The servo also slid down from the back of his helm, a tired but satisfied smile on the ninja’s faceplates as he fell into a short reset. Bumblebee was still so charged up but he couldn’t wait for his ninja to wake up. Turning he saw that Jazz was not only in the room, his own spike was eager for a sample of what the other ninja just experienced.

“Oh Jaaaaaazzzz… want some help with that?” he asked in a sing-song tone as he sat up on his knees, turning slightly to face him even as he beckoned him closer. There was a thrill as he watched the other mech stumbled the remaining distance, his servo slick with transfluid, once he was close enough he reached out with his servo (the one not currently trying to ride out his charge) and removing his stained one, took a moment to sample some of the silvery fluids with a low purr before going directly for the source. The white ninja’s taste and scent was so good if he closed his optics Bee could almost imagine it was Prowl’s spike he was sucking on like a rust stick but different. A servo rested on his helm and he moaned louder as once more a digit rubbed at his horn, leaning into the touch. And Jazz was clearly enjoying it the way his hips bucking into his mouth, his designation being moaned in breathless pants, but just like before his charge was too short and he found himself swallowing more transfluid, which was good but he was no where close to reaching his own overload.

The Elite Guardsmech was panting heavily in an effort to cool down his system, and failing miserably at that, fans running just as hard and heavy as the others but unlike the other ninja-in-training he didn’t fall into a quick reset. He dropped to his joints next to the minibot but with his servo stroking the back of his helm, pulled him in for a deep kiss, glossia eagerly tasting the mix of transfluid from the two of them. He moaned at the small squeak of surprise he swallowed but that didn’t stop him from sliding his other servo down the hot frame, tracing the rim of the wet valve, gathering the steaming fluids before he pushed the digits in aside the yellow ones. Bee broke the kiss as he cried out, spreading his stabilizers wider he found his hips pushing into their digits, wanting more.

“So fraggin’ hot, Bee,” Jazz moaned into his audio, servo sliding down to wrap around his waist and pull him close. His spike was quickly becoming pressurized, begging for attention but it seemed the sweet aft minibot knew what he wanted as a small servo reached down and began stroking him off. Unable to stop himself from groaning he attacked the neck cables with nips, trying to get him to make as many sweet sounds as possible.

Prowl wondered what all the noise was as he onlined, ready to yell at Bumblebee to turn off whatever he was watching but not only was it something he had never heard before, but it was loud, as in the sounds were coming right next to him. Focusing himself to sit up he wondered why he felt so slow when his optics focused in on the sight of his good friend Jazz performing some questionable actions on his younger and smaller teammate. And, he looked like Bumblebee was enjoying it as well. They both were. His faceplates flushed as he recalled what had set him into a reset and was dimly aware that his spike was rapidly repressurizing. Primus, he could see still feel Bee’s glossia on his spike, the way his digits traced his holo-projector, even his kisses… he groaned as he stroked his spike, wanting to join in but Jazz looked like he had everything under control… surely, he wouldn’t be needed-

“P-Prrrowwlll…” Bumblebee purred as he looked over at the ninja, optics so bright they were nearly white but they were looking at him. There was the wet sounds of digits being removed, a servo covered in hot fluids reaching out towards him. Clutching at Jazz the scout cried out, the digits thrusting harder but as much as he wanted to overload he wanted his ninja bot to join him. “Please…”

“Bumblebee…” There was no question and no denial about it but the ninja found himself moving closer, taking the outstretched servo in his own, he found himself leaning forward before sealing their lips together and this time, it was his glossia asking for entrance and darting in. Primus, his taste was exquisite! He wanted more, squeezing the servo tightly he lowered it to his spike and moaned as the slick digits began to firmly stroke it, smearing the hot drops of transfluid. The black and gold ninja wasted no time in moving his lubricant stained servo down, stroking the rim of the soaking wet mesh folds before pushing his digits in alongside the others. Prowl growled softly as Bee whimpered, hips eagerly riding the digits as he stroked him and Jazz together. It was a battle of wills and this time he was determined to bring the scout to overload first.

The two ninjas eagerly plunged their digits in and out of the wet valve, scissoring them as they stroked and rubbed slight bruised nodes, trying to draw out as many sweet cries from the minibot but as much as they wanted to hear him call out their designations they didn’t want anyone to hear him and, thinking the worse, rush in and interrupt them. There was an unspoken rule between them so when Prowl pulled back from the kiss to cycle air through his system Jazz swooped in. Bumblebee felt like he was floating, his processor so light, though with one ninja trying to steal the air from his vents and the other biting down on the cables in his neck hard enough for the energon to slow that could be another reason for it, but he didn’t care. He stroked and tugged at their spikes, the delicious charge building up wonderfully, tiny arches of electricity dancing along his plating and to the spikes he was currently pleasuring; his hips bucked, arched, rolled and grinded into the eager digits, his valve tightening around them trying to pull them in deeper, desperate to be fragged but he knew, even if he reached overload it would not be enough. He knew what he needed and the thought process caused a thrill of pleasure to run rampant, causing him to cry out.

“M-mechs… oh Primus… gonna… gonna o’load!” he cried out as he pulled away from the intense kiss; he licked his derma plates and moaned as he could still taste them.

“That’s what we’re hopin’ for,” Jazz grinned eagerly. “Right, Prowler?”

“Told you—not to c-call me tha-at!” the other mech grunted. He used a digit to rub at a very swollen, very sensitive anterior node and was reward with a loud cry of pleasure as the yellow frame between them gave an almost violent shudder. “Tell us, what you want, Bumblebee.”

“Aah… wan… you…” He tried to tell them what he wanted but he felt too hot, that his circuits were getting fried from the heat so instead he shifted around and somehow, without dislodging their servos from inside him, pulled them as close as he could for a three-way kiss and showed them what he wanted via their comm link. He wanted both Cyber ninjas to take him together and have the three of the overload together. There was surprise, heavy arousal, and concern from them but he begged them, nearly to the point of tears. _::Please! Don’t make me choose!::_ he begged them, breaking the kiss and dropping his helm to rest on their shoulders. He told himself he wouldn’t cry but he didn’t want to choose and hurt either of them. Neither of the two mechs said anything, but it was very much obvious they couldn’t make him choose between them. Looking at each other they was a silent and brief conversation between them before they nodded in agreement. They would not make him choose.

Prowl was the first to withdraw, giving the anterior node one another caress as he sat back, ignoring the cold air surrounding his pressurized spike and the amount of transfluid dripping to the floor. He leaned forward and hugged Bumblebee close as Jazz slowly withdrew himself but not before pressing his lips against a tear-streaked cheek ridge, whispering that everything was going to be fine. They waited for the smaller mech to calm down, servos wrapped him in a double embrace, showing him they were not upset at him. It seemed to take vorns before he calmed down although his vents hitched slightly but they also knew he was still ready and very willing.

“Jazz, will you please…?”

“You got it, Prowl.” Sitting up white servos reached out for the yellow hips, gently pulling them up he instructed Bee to straddle the ninja’s lap. The minibot did so without question, shivering as he felt digits brushed over his still leaking valve. Jazz smiled he reached out and taking a firm hold of the other ninja’s spike, guided it to the mesh folds and watched as he slowly sank down. “Slag Prowler… he looks really fragable from this angle,” he murmured as he watched the way the dark gray and gold spike disappeared into the trembling frame.

“He’s still, so tight… Not sure, if this will work…” he grunted, obviously struggling not to overload himself but after a bit his servos reached down and stilled the hips, frowning slightly at the soft whimpers coming from the smaller mech. “Relax Bumblebee, we’re not done yet.”

“… p-please…” he whimpered softly, pawing at matte black backplates, digits digging a bit deeper into the the seams where his jet boosters were located, making the ninja hiss sharply. He slowly and reluctantly withdrew, thinking he did something wrong but the scout froze when he felt another frame press into his backplates and servos stroked his sides, helping him to relax even further.

“Try to relax, Bee. We’re gonna take real good care of ya,” the Elite ninja murmured into his audio. His black spike with double rows of white biolights rubbed at the slick folds, moaning softly at the feel of the other spike but he reached down, wrapped his servo around his spike and lined it up. “Ready?”

“Yes.” There was a nudge, followed by a pressure so Prowl lifted the hips until only his tip remained then grunted as he felt the other tip of the spike push its way inside. Both mechs held very still, waiting until they were certain the mech pressed tightly between them wasn’t in pain. Bee said nothing, except to moan as they slowly began to lower him, pausing when the valve seemed to tighten around them as though to push them out but for all their slowness and desire not to hurt the scout, he was not so appreciative of their concern. Shifting around he managed to sink his hips all the way down, impaling himself on both spikes, and this time the pain of taking two spikes up his valve (despise being prepared with multiple digits had not been quite enough). Thankfully he managed to keep from screaming out in a mix of pain and pleasure (well, mostly pain) but he did whimper pitifully at his own stupidity.

The two ninjas wordlessly clung to him tightly, hugging him between them, servos reaching out to rub at his sides, his hips, even his chassis and backplates, helping him to relax. Engines revved loudly, the vibrations flowing into him in an effort to comfort him, words of comfort and concern for his wellbeing running from their three-way comm link. Bumblebee took it all in, clinging to them tightly but after a bit he felt himself relaxing. He took several deep cycles of air, feeling them flow in and out of his vents, then shifted but he cried out in pleasure when the two spikes brushed over his sensor nodes. That immediately drowned out any pain he felt only to be replaced with pleasure. And it clearly showed on his faceplates and in his frame as two pairs of servos began guiding him up and now. the spikes alternated in their thrusting so when one pulled out the other pushed in, making certain that he was never empty for very long. The charge, which had died off when his valve’s rim was stretched up to its limit, was once more returning but slowly, allowing them to coast along the waves of pleasure. Trusting himself not to cry Bee began moaning their designations, telling them where to touch him as he did the same. He discovered that Prowl liked it when he dug his digits into the seams near his jet boosters seeing how they were very sensitive, and Jazz liked it when he managed to get into the seams along his sides, just under his chassis, causing the both of them to moan aloud. He wished he could touch more but they were more than eager to touch him everywhere, seeking out his own sweet spots and what made him cry out the most.

The charge was now becoming a storm, tiny arcs of electricity dancing from the yellow plating to black and white, increasing the overall charge. Before they knew it, both ninjas were moving as one mech, plunging their spikes into their willing third, listening to him whimper and cry out in pleasure, feeling the valve clutch around them tightly, trying to keep them from pulling out and cling to him tightly, servos clutching as him possessively, stroking at his most sensitive spots. In the back of his processor Bee was wondering why his spike hadn’t become unlatched but that thought process quickly died when a slick digit reached down and mercilessly flicked and rubbed at his overly sensitive anterior node making his optics brighten until they were also white and making him fall into a powerful overload, screaming out the two ninja’s designation in their private comm link. The digit refused to stop as did the spikes so when he felt them grunt and growled out his designation, pumping his valve with so much transfluid he ended up falling into another overload. Bee’s processor was unable to deal with such an overload of data and he crashed hard, going limp between them.

Fans were still running on high, systems struggling to cool down but among the errors and warnings the two ninjas never felt more satisfied in all their cycles. Prowl was the first to move, sliding out of the valve was slightly difficult as the cables refused to release either of them but there was a wet suction as he managed to pull free followed by a rush of mixed fluids. Bumblebee let out a soft whimper but calmed when said mech held him close, stroking his backstrut. Jazz slowly pulled out, not having nearly as much trouble but he panted heavily for air as his spike slowly pulled back into its housing.

“Oh slag… Prowler… did, that jus’ really… happen…?” he asked even though he was still looking at the evidence before him.

“We did,” he said simply but despite the mess he continued to hold the minibot close. It had been enjoyable but something had not felt right. Did Bumblebee really meant what he had said when it started? Did he really have any sort of feelings for him or was it just, a spur of the moment as he heard humans call it? Whatever he had—if anything, did it make he say that? Venting softly he withdrew a rag from his subspace and cleaned the minibot up then himself, closing their panels respectfully. “I should take him back to his berthroom.”

“Sure thing, I’ll clean up here,” the visiting ninja said as he finished cleaning himself up and watched them leave. Looking at the stain of fluids on the floor Jazz began cleaning up but he felt like he was forgetting something though wasn’t sure what it was exactly. “Ah if it’s important, I’ll remember it later,” he told himself.

In the berthroom Prowl gently set the minibot on his berth then covered him with a thin blanket. He barely moved at all, his systems running on maximum energy-saving. But the ninja kept thinking about the words said and part of him wanted to wake him up and ask him if he meant what he said, but what if he didn’t remember anything at all? Would that really be fair to either of them?

_‘He asked for my help, and I did.’_ He reached down, gently stroking his forehelm he made sure to tuck the blanket around him before leaving, his spark heavy.

* * *

When Bumblebee awoke it took him a few breems to not only online his all parts of his system, but to defrag his processor; his processor was so overload with new data he was having trouble trying to function properly. He felt his faceplates heat up when he reviewed the data and he still found it hard to believe that he had begged both Prowl AND Jazz to frag him together. As in both at the same time. So much different from the jettwins but it had been _so_ good. His servo was already reaching down beneath his blanket for his panel, to slid it open and try to relive some of the pleasurable experience but stopped when he realized he had a message waiting for him. Opening it he found out it was from Jazz.

_“Yo Bee! Hope we didn’t fry ya circuits too much. Told Optimus that Prowl ‘n I were teachin’ ya some of our moves but ya exhausted yaself ‘n went to recharge early. Don’t worry, I’m not the type ta kiss ‘n tell.”_

_‘Yeah… but, what would he think if he knew I lost my seals to the jettwins ‘cuz I got overcharged on high-grade?’_ he thought to himself, worrying his bottom lip plates between his denta. He didn’t know where these thought processes were coming from but something didn’t feel right. He found he had a few more comm messages from Optimus, Bulkhead, even the twins but nothing from prowl and for some reason that really hurt. Ignoring the ache in his spark he went over them quickly.

_“Yellow Bee, Jazz sir is telling me and brother you is hurt from training. We is sorries you is hurt but when you is better maybe we can be training all together like?” -Jetstorm_

_“Prowl explained everything. While I’m glad that you are taking your training with a bit more seriousness I do wish you would not overwork yourself to the point of exhaustion. But don’t think this will excuse you from patrolling, either. But for now, take care of yourself.” -Optimus Prime_

_“Hey, little buddy! Hope your training is going better than when Prowl tried teaching me. Oh yeah, Ratchet said you better not do something reckless that gets you landed in the medbay, or else. His words not mine! Anyway, come by when you wake up, I’m working on a new painting!” -Bulkhead_

That message made Bee smile as he closed the messages and slowly sat up. Everything was running much smoother than before and his helm wasn’t aching something bad. Getting up he realized he was waaay late for his patrol but recalling boss-bot’s concern he felt touched. Had it Sentinel that fragger wouldn’t have hesitated to drag him out like an unruly sparkling. Getting to his peds he also realized he had been cleaned from his “ninja training.” He reached up, digits hovering over his comm link to send a message to prowl but stopped and lowered his servo. If he didn’t bother to send him a comm, then he more than likely did not want to speak to him.

_‘… shoulda kept my derma shut,’_ he thought to himself, then frowned when his tanks gave a rumble. Scrap, he hadn’t refueled since coming back from the SteelHaven and he didn’t have any energon cubes in his berthroom. Venting softly he left his room, ignoring the one leading to Prowl’s and went to where their cubes were stored. He looked up when he saw Ratchet was sitting at the communication center but he was so busy looking at he monitors he didn’t acknowledge him. And remembering the message he had passed to Bulkhead to pass onto him, he wasn’t too keen on getting his attention anytime soon. _‘Just grab a cube for me, one for Bulkhead, then see what he’s doing.’_ He made sure to keep everything was quiet as possible, placing a cube in his subspace and taking another he turned to leave but froze when the medic called him out.

“Nice of you to finally join us, kid,” Ratchet said but didn’t bother to turn around to face him.

“Y-yeah. Prowl and Jazz made it look really easy, ya know?” he said nervously as he rubbed the back of his helm.

“Mmmhmm. Just remember, you better not do something reckless-”

“‘-that gets me landed in the medbay, or else.’ Yeah, Bulkhead already told me.”

“Good. Now get before I make you finish up monitor duties.”

“Going!” He didn’t need to be told twice! That was like the most boring thing ever! Well, not as boring as meditation but ever since he was caught trying to play video games instead of watching out for AllSpark signatures and Decepticon locations, they grounded him from all sorts of fun forever! (not really but it felt like it.)

Heading back to the hall Bumblebee immediately headed to the green Autobot’s berthroom. He knocked on the door but there was no answer but when he adjusted his audio receiver he realized he could hear him inside. _‘Maybe he couldn’t hear me,’_ he thought and opened the door. Sure enough the large soft-spark was indeed inside and he was humming something as he dragged a paint covered mop over a canvas. No doubt he was working on another piece of “art” but he had to smile. Least he was doing something he really enjoyed and he was happy for him.

The mop moved across the canvas, a streak of bright red popping out against the dark background. Bulkhead was really enjoying himself as he stepped back, looking over the canvas he reached out with his mop to dip it in paint but quickly turned when he heard a muffled shout.

“H-hey! Watch where you’re swinging that thing!”

“Oh hey Bee-!” His grin was quickly lost when he realized he had smacked his best friend in the faceplates with his mop. “Um, sorry, didn’t see ya there.”

“Ya think?” Great, and just after he had cleaned up. He accepted the sheet and rubbed the paint from his faceplates, making sure his optics were clear. “You and Ratchet the only mechs here?” he asked, lowering the sheet.

“Yeah, the others were going on patrol but I offered to stay behind just in case.” Dunking the mop in a large drum of water he rinsed it off before plunking in another canister of pain. “Oh, were you at the SteelHaven the other solar cycle?”

Bee froze as he nervously played with the sheet, not noticing that he was still covered in some smeared pain. “No! I mean yes! Maybe… why?”

“Well, Sentinel came charging in the other cycle, accusing us for stealing something from the ship’s cargo hold but he wouldn’t say what it was. I don’t think he knows himself what’s missing but Ultra Magnus wanted to know if any of us had been there,” he said as he studied his canvas before bringing his makeshift “brush” up to add in some color. “Did you three do anything or go anywhere on the ship?”

“Go? Go where? What do you mean by that?? I mean—yeah I was with them, I mean not with them but we were together! I-I mean-!” Realizing he was stuttering Bee decided to change the topic and instead moved closer to the canvas, trying to make out the image. “What are you painting?”

“I’m really not sure, yet. Sari said some artists don’t think about what they paint, they just do it so I thought I’d try it out.” Bulkhead stopped and took a step back, looking at it before sighing and setting his brush down. “Yeah I got nothing. Maybe I should start over…”

“Hey, mind if I give it a shot?” Seeing the surprised look on the other Autobot’s faceplates Bumblebee gave him a slight shrug. “I mean, you obviously have fun with it, and I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Y-Yeah sure! Lemme get you a mop!” With several more mops and more cans of various colors, the two were randomly painting whatever they wanted and it ranged from the Cybertronium alphabet to random pictures or in Bee’s case, stick figures in comical positions. “… I don’t get it,” Bulkhead said, tilting his helm to the side.

“How can you not see it?? Look that’s you, that’s me, and then there’s everyone else!”

“If that’s me then why is my helm so small?”

“That’s Sari! She’s sitting on your shoulder.”

“Oh, oh now I see her! Hey how come Prowl is smiling? He never smiles.” He peered closer then blinked. “Wait, that’s Jazz and the one scowling next to him is Prowl. Right?”

“Now you see it!” Bumblebee grinned and planted his servos on his hips, only to look down when he realized he was covered in a rainbow of colors. The mop had been too big for him to use so Bee had used his digits. He ended up making more of a mess than actually panting but it had been fun. “Hey, this stuff washes off, right?”

“Huh? Oh yeah, it’s really easy to wash off. Kinda learned that the hard way,” Bulkhead laughed nervously as he rubbed the back of his helm. Looking around his room he looked around before locating a clean cloth. “Here, you can use this-”

“Watch out!!”

“Huh?” But the large green giant continued pulling at the sheet, failing to realize that a stack of unopened paint had been resting on a corner so when he pulled it out, he upset the pyramid of cans so they came tumbling down.

Outside the room there was a loud crash that would have had everyone running to see what had happened, only to paused as they saw a multicolored puddle escaping from under the door. Inside it looked like a bomb had gone off, or as their tiny organic friend would have remarked, that someone blew up a rainbow. Indeed splashes of red, blue, yellow, green, purple, even white and black and various shades in between was splattered all over the walls, defiantly the floor, and even the ceiling! Almost everything in the room was covered in pain, but that also included the two unfortunate mechs inside.

Bulkhead groaned, wondering what hit him and why he was seeing everything in shades of white and pink when he looked around and saw the state of his room. “Uh… oh…” This was bad, really really _really_ bad. Wait, where was- “Bumblebee? Little buddy? Where are you?” he called out as he got to his peds, looking around he took a few steps forward, crushing paint cans under his peds but paused when he heard a muffled shout. “Bee? Where are you?”

_::By your painting,::_ came the annoyed comm. _::I’m stuck!::_

“Stuck?” Wading through cans and paint he made his way to where the large canvas had been set up and had fallen over, now completely soaked in paint but as he lifted it he saw a familiar flash of yellow and reached down. “Bee? Hey you al… right…?” Bulkhead blinked but he was resisting the urge not to burst out laughing at the state of his little buddy.

_::Laugh, and I’ll fry every circuit in your system,::_ he warned. _::Now get this off!!::_

“S-Sure thing, buddy.” Holding him in his servos the large Autobot carefully made his way over to his berth where he sat his best friend down. Surprising enough the berth itself was untouched, the sheets covering it were another matter but he reached out, tugging at the paint bucket trapped over his helm. “Okay, that’s stuck on tight.”

_::Ya think?!::_ Luckily the bucket wasn’t that stuck, though Bumblebee did not appreciate nearly having his helm pulled off along with the bucket but once it was off he found he could see once more. Well, kinda. He also sputtered as an unpainted piece of cloth rubbed over his faceplates, wiping the excess paint from his optics and derma plating. Blinking he looked around the room, even at the ceiling before looking at his friend and couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his lips. “Oh Bulkhead… you’re a mess!”

“Yeah? Well, you’re an even bigger mess,” he retorted but he was still smiling. “Here, lemme get that,” he said as he reached down and tried removing a can wedged on the purple and green streaked ped. “Oh that one is stuck real good.”

“Ow ow! Don’t squeeze it, you’re gonna get it more stuck!” Bee winced when the large servo tried to get a tight grip on the can only to further dent the weak metal.

“Sorry, um here, lemme try this.” Bulkhead reached out to grab a black stabilizer in one servo and then used the other to carefully start tugging at the can. It wasn’t easy and his servo kept sliding along the lean limb, but the green mech didn’t seem to realize it as he struggled to remove the dented can.

Gray and blue stained servos gripped at the servo tightly, looking as though he was holding on so he wasn’t accidentally dragged off the berth but Bumblebee was in fact, trying to keep the blunt digits from getting any closer to his panel. The paint, thankfully, hid the fact that he was blushing but he blinked when he realized he could hear his cooling fans kicking on.

_‘Oh no, no not now! I-I can’t let this happen!’_ he thought and once more tried pushing the servo down but at that moment the paint can was pulled off, therefore not only pulling him almost completely off the berth but the other servo slid over the paint and unintentionally groped his interface panel. Now the cooling fans were running even harder than before and Bee was worried his gentle friend was going to hear it but thankfully the servo was removed and he managed to catch himself before he landed on his aft on the floor.

“There, now it’s off! But I don’t think Optimus is gonna be happy about this,” Bulkhead sighed, setting the badly dented can to the table. He turned to his friend but blinked when he saw he was pulling himself back onto the berth and was venting just a bit hard. “Hey, you okay?”

The painted minibot didn’t answer at first, trying to get his systems to cool down he jumped and looked up as the black and green chassis before him. “Huh? Oh! Oh yeah, I-I’m fine… just fine,” he said softly, looking away but once more the freshly painted walls drew his attention. “What are you gonna do about your room?”

“Clean as much as I can.” He lifted his ped, watching the paint mix together on the floor. “Well, the floor anyway.” He began moving around the room, picking up items to be cleaned later Bulkhead was surprised but touched when Bumblebee began helping him. It took nearly a joor but much of the paint had been washed down the drain in the middle of the room, although there were faint splotches that stained the walls. Of course, by that time the paint on their own frames had dried but the sparked artist told his friend to go wash first as he tried locating a sheet that hadn’t gotten painted on.

“You sure you don’t wanna wash off first?”

“I can wait. And Bee, thanks for your help.” The minibot smiled up at him even as he shrugged slightly.

“Hey, it’s what friends do.” Turning he headed for the wash area. Compared to the one the jettwins had on SteelHaven, theirs was very primitive but at least there was plenty of water so he could wash the paint off. The water was cold but Bumblebee sighed as he let it beat down on him, feeling some of that heat he had felt earlier fade to nearly nothing. He still couldn’t get over that he was getting turned on when his best friend had touched him like that. It had been an accident and he didn’t think he thought of him in that way… did he?

_‘What am I thinking?! ‘Course he doesn’t! I’m his best friend, his little buddy!’_ he scolded himself and shook his helm, trying to get the thought process out of his helm. Grabbing the bottle of solvent, he poured a generous amount in his servos and began rubbing it against his plating. Bee smiled as he watched the paint begin to thin then wash off under the cold spray. As fun as that was, he was starting to miss his original color. He even carefully washed the remaining paint from his faceplates, shuddering his optics until he could see clearly but as he ran his servos down his frame he moaned lowly and found his digits rubbing at his panel. _‘Oh Primus… not again…’_ The panel was hot despite the cold water running down but he couldn’t stop stroking his panel, watching as it slid open. His spike was still in its housing but his valve, it was starting to leak lubricant. _‘I… I shouldn’t… do this…’_ But his digits still found their way to his valve.

The green Autobot was a gentle spark, he wouldn’t hurt a cyber-fly but he fought with as much courage as any other mech he knew. He was his best friend even when he acted like such a glitch but he also wanted to know what he felt like, what he tasted like, how he felt as he took him right here. His cooling fans kicked onto high even as Bee dropped to his knees, rubbing at his still sensitive folds he leaned back as he felt lubricant beginning to drip freely. His logic circuitry tried to override his motion relays, to get him to reconsider and stop. Instead he gently pushed two of his digits inside, whimpering at the familiar feeling of having digits thrusting inside. He tried to mimic what was all done to him, even rubbing at the wet folds but it wasn’t enough. Letting out a frustrated whine Bee looked around for something to help him satisfy the terrible heat he saw the hose he had been using to clean himself off. It was a human-sized fire hose which helped a great deal when they needed to clean up after patrols and battles but he wasn’t thinking about getting clean. He reached forward, grabbing the hose he hissed sharply as the cold water struck his interface equipment. His spike seemed to retract even deeper in its housing but he angled the head of the hose so the steady pressure struck his anterior node and his valve.

“Pr-Primus!” he hissed sharply, feeling his valve throb he was now thrusting four digits in and out of his leaking valve, enjoying the feel of his lubricant coating his scissoring digits. The charge was rapidly building, the heat coursing through every part of his system; all he could hear was the sound of his own fans roaring loudly as they tried cooling him down but he jumped as he felt the ground vibrate and turned to see the object of his fantasy slowly sitting up, rubbing his helm. “B-Bulkhead?!”

“S-Sorry! I-I just wanted to… to tell y-you, I… I…?” Great, now he forgot what he had originally come in here for! But even as he sat up he couldn’t help but notice the way his little buddy looked, all shiny and slick, digits buried into a soft-looking valve, lubricant dripping freely only to be washed away by the water. He wasn’t aware that his faceplates were shining brightly with heat, or that he was staring at the minibot with a slack-jaw expression as he made his way over, or that his cod piece slid up and his spike was pushing desperately against his seal.

“Bulk…” The first thing Bee wanted to ask if he was okay, even though he knew his thick helm could withstand a lot of damage he was still concerned about him, but instead he was staring at the protective seal over the housing and what appeared to be a spike trying to push through. “Bulkie… you’re—sealed?”

“Huh?” It took several kliks for the words to register in his processor and even as he looked down to his sudden bared interface equipment it seemed to take several more kliks for him to register it was open, and that maybe he should cover it. In a panic he failed his servos, reaching down to cover himself and trying to make himself as small as possible. “B-B-Bee! I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-!” he began to apologize, stumbling over words and refusing to look at him but everything came to a screeching halt as small yellow servos reached out, covering the servos held tightly in his lap. “B… Bee…?”

“I can help you, remove your seal… I mean, if you want to,” he offered softly, looking at him with blue optics that were brightening slowly. He rubbed at the large servos gently, feeling them ever so slowly untense before pushing them back. “If you don’t want this, tell me. Okay?”

“… o-okay…” This was so strange, he never would have thought of his friend this way, he was a hyperactive mech who enjoyed racing around and sometimes didn’t listen to orders, but he was still a really good bot. His soft moan broke through the endless loop of data running through his processor and instead chose to focus on the digits stroking his spike through the thin membrane. It felt good, so much better when he had tried touching himself once but his digits were just too big and blunt. He leaned back on his servos as the rubbing continued, spreading his stabilizers apart he watched as Bumblebee moved between them, his own cooling fans sputtered to life as he watched him lean down and give his seal a lick with a wet, slick glossia. “Nnngh!” His digits began digging into the floor, tearing through the concrete.

“You okay, Bulkie?” the scout asked softly, looking up but seeing his friend nodding he smiled and leaning back down, gave the seal another firm lick as he refused to look away. The deep, frame trembling moan he let out caused the heat in his system to suddenly spike, making his valve throb in want as well. _‘Later,’_ he told himself as he continued licking at the seal. It had been so long since he had broken his own seal, he tried to remember what he had done but he knew if he could make the green mech’s spike pressurized enough, it would break through on its own. Letting his optics dim he pressed his lip plates firmly against the weakening membrane, right over where the cable was pushing repetitively, and began sucking the area, running the flat of his glossia over it repeatedly to help make it softer, more malleable.

“Aaah!!” Wide hips gave a short buck, pushing up against the hot, wet mouth but Bulkhead forced himself not to move as talented servos gripped the top of his stabilizers, slipping small digits into the gaps between plates where they began stroking and rubbing tense wires. “Nnnggoooh Primus!!” he grunted out, trembling he brought a servo up to stroke the yellow helm. He rubbed at the smooth metal, pausing when he heard a purring moan he continued to gently strok a small horn and was rewarded with another purr, the vibrations sending delicious pleasure into his spike. “You… you like that?” he panted to him even as he continued rubbing and stroking the curved appendage.

Oh he defiantly liked it, a lot! Bumblebee dug his digits deeper into the seams, stroking the hidden wires even more, sucking harder. The spike was pushing harder against the seal now, the edges starting to give way, his moans were muffled as the first drops of hot, oily transfluid touched his glossia, now all too eager to taste more. He sealed his mouth over the housing, firmly licking the silicone membrane, venting air deeply as he swallowed the oily drops. He whimpered as he felt beads of lubricant dripped from the seams of his panel, coating the inside of his stabilizers. Bee reached down and hissed softly as the heat of the protective plate burned the sensors in his digits but it didn’t stop him from rubbing at it, feeling it snap open eagerly.

The thin barrier was growing weaker with every flick, rapidly coming undone around the rim, not only releasing the heavy buildup of transfluid but the spike was becoming so pressurized it didn’t take long for it to push through the weakened seal with enough force to break through. If there was any pain or discomfort the bulky green mech didn’t notice but with no restriction the cable pushed its way into the yellow mech’s mouth, filling it up with its thick girth. The minibot let out a muffled sound of surprise, about to pull back but the servo stroking his sensory helm suddenly tighten, keeping him from pulling back. He struggled, pushing at the green hips, but his glossia unintentionally rubbed against the underside, which in turned caused the spike to twitch, releasing even more transfluid into the mouth.

_‘I-Its too big! I don’t, think I can do this!’_ Bumblebee thought to himself, wincing as he felt the springs in his jaw tighten in tension. He tried pulling back once more, pushing at the hips to pull back but a digit stroked his horn and he let out a deep moan and found himself now sucking at the thickness, slowly stroking his glossia along the underside. His charge, that had begun to fade slightly, was once more rushing through his system, eagerly swallowing the transfluid as it dripped into his tanks. He winced as he felt the servo try to push him down deeper, almost trigging the reflex to purge his tank he quickly wrapped a servo around the base of the thick spike and squeezed tightly. Just like before there was a charge building, electricity sparking over his frame it transferred to the mech he was pleasing. Bulkhead tensed and with a shout, clutched at the helm, hips bucking slightly just as he emptied himself into the hot mouth. Bee’s optics grew impossibly wide, trying to swallow as much as he could but it was too much and he finally pushed back with a heavy gasp, watching as the gray and green spike continued spurting out heavy loads of transfluid.

“Oooohhhh Priimussss… that… that was… that was…” His processor actually could not come up with anything but it had felt so- “Good!”

Bee blinked but couldn’t help but let out a weak laugh. “Glad I could help,” he panted softly, running his digits over the mess coating his chassis. Sitting back on his knees he followed a thick drop as it rolled down his plating only to mingle with the faintly colored transfluid. He reached out, catching the mingled mess on his digit, then brought it up to his derma and licked it clean. “That’s, really good, Bulkie…”

“Bee…” Why was the minibot licking his digits clean? Was it really good as he said? Why was his spike starting to ache like before? His optics widen as he watched the way yellow digits rubbed between those lean stabilizers, parting the folds of such a soft-looking valve, stroking a wet digit over the leaking opening. He shouldn’t be looking, he knew he shouldn’t be staring but he couldn’t help it nor fight it as the minibot moved forward, climbing onto his lap with his backplates facing his chassis. “B-B-Bee? Wha-What are you-”

“Just relax, Bulkie. I think, you’ll enjoy this,” he purred at him over his shoulder, licking at a stray drop of transfluid from the corner of his lip plates. The dark green spike was stout but it was certainly thicker. It was no wonder his jaw felt like it was going to break off when he sucked at it but his valve throbbed eagerly in desire. He wrapped a servo around it, just barely able to wrap his digits around it completely and stroked, watching as transfluid began seeping out. He lifted his servo and began licking it clean, using the other the continue stroking it but he also rocked his hips so it rubbed against his naked mesh folds, watching the way the silvery fluids mingled together and enjoying the vibrations of the frame behind him, but he needed to feel it spreading him open now. Lifting himself up he straddled the spike, holding it firmly he used his other servo to spread his folds open and began to lower himself. Despite the amount of lubricant and transfluid flowing there was a bit of a struggle but the tip managed to push in and it caused their engines to rev loudly. Bumblebee panted heavily as he slowly lowered himself down the thick spike, wincing as it spread him wide open much more than any of the mechs prior to him, but it also rubbed over all his sensor nodes, lighting them up. As he sat down completely he found that it was too short to reach the farther nodes but there was a tightness that caused his vents to hitch slightly. “Y-You okay, buddy?” he called to his friend, leaning back against his warm bulk as he took a klik to adjust to the stretch.

The artistic bot couldn’t answer with words, he felt as though his vocalizer shorted out but there was no denying the pleasure of the compact frame sitting on his lap, the way his valve clutched around him tightly, the wet heat coursing all around him. “T-Tight,” he managed to force out, heavy static lacing it he watched as a yellow servo reached out to take his and placed it on a black stabilizer. “Huh?”

“Just relax, I promise you’ll enjoy this,” the minibot whispered, smiling at him he slowly lifted himself up, moaning as the spike was pulled free, roughly caressing his nodes. He whimpered softly at the empty feeling in his valve, eager to be fulfilled he lowered himself down and gasped at the feel of fluids being forced out. Behind him the chassis vibrated even stronger, the servo on his stabilizer tightening which he took as a sign to continue. Slowly he raised himself up then back down, clutching his valve with each pull then relaxing as he came back down, enjoying the sensations. “Bulkie… feels so good, your spike… it’s—filling me up so much,” he moaned lowly as he continued to move slowly.

“R-Really?” Everything felt so tight, he thought he was hurting the scout but he wasn’t trying to get away and he could hear his engine purring deeply; that was a sign of it being good, right? “What else… does it feel like?” he asked, stroking the limb in his grip he spread his own stabilizers wider, opening the yellow mech more.

“Big—so big—touching all—my nodes…!” With his stabilizers spread wider it opened his wet folds a bit more; Bee leaned forward and began rocking his hips as he continued to move, crying out louder as his nodes were caressed harder, friction from such a tight fit making him whimper softly, a small puddle of fluids forming beneath them. There was the initial sting at being stretched but it seemed to double the charge he was feeling despite the slow pace. He lifted himself up, venting heavily he paused when he felt large digits stroking his sides, fingering his hips, he was taken back when they pulled him back sharply and he cried out as his nodes were roughly caressed but that was only the beginning. The servos tightened around him and soon he was mewling even louder as he was slammed onto the thick spike hard and fast, condensation dripping off his plating, cooling fans struggling to contain his rising core temperature and failing. Bee gripped the large, blunt digits tightly, whimpering softly he felt the electrical currents dancing along their frame and while small, it seemed so much stronger thanks to the water and solvent clinging to their plating.

Bulkhead grunted as he slammed the smaller mech repeatedly over his spike, enjoying the feeling of his valve clutching around him. Oh it felt so good, it was so hot and tight, he pulled Bumblebee back against his chassis and focused his optics down, groaning as he watched the way his spike pushed in and pulled out, the wet suctions it made, the fluids dripping to the floor, the tiny arcs of electricity dancing over the sensitive mesh. He grunted and tightened his grip over the small pelvic armor, missing the sharp keen of pain but he could feel a familiar pressure building, just like from before. “B-Bee! I-I’m-I’m gonna-!”

“F-Fill me up, Bulkie!” There were several hard, rapid thrusts before the spike erupted and filled the eager valve with a great deal of transfluid, striking the back and coating all the nodes that Bee couldn’t take it and cried out even louder as he overloaded himself, whimpering as the thick spike continued to thrust in and out for several long kliks before slowing down. The servos continued to clutch at him, holding him close but he knew the larger mech slipped into recharge when he felt him fall back, systems growing quiet. The minibot continued to sit on his lap, panting heavily he whimpered as he pried the large servo off his dented hip and looked down at his damaged spike housing. When the large mech failed to realize was in his eager groping one of his large digits pressed onto the rim of housing hard enough to push it inward, so when his spike tried to pressurize it couldn’t but his system continued to push at his release. So now his spike was trapped partway in his housing, desperate for a release but unable to.

_‘I bet I can fix it,’_ he thought to himself and slowly sat up, wincing as the spike slowly, oh so slowly, pulled itself free. His stabilizers felt weak as he forced himself to stand but as he moved to clean up he noticed the tale tell sign of energon mixed with their fluids. _‘What the…’_ Bee reached down and hissed sharply as his digits touched his very swollen valve and came away covered in energon. He swallowed the panic that threaten to overwhelm him and calmly, picked up the hose and rinsed himself off. The water pressure hurt and he found he was still leaking but he forced his panel to close and ignored the pain as he cleaned off Bulkhead as well. The green mech was so out of it he never stirred but the mech was too big to move on his own and he couldn’t leave him here.

“Hey, hey Bulkhead, wake up,” he said as he tapped the mech on the helm. He smiled as the optics onlined dimly. “C’mon, you gotta get up.”

“B… Be-ee? Wha… happen’?” he asked slowly.

“For one thing you’re recharging here in the washroom,” the scout said and tugged at his servo. “C’mon, I’ll help ya to your berthroom.”

“O-okay…” He slowly sat up, then got up onto his peds. He did feel slightly unstable as he stood, trying not to lean too heavily on his little buddy but they left the washroom and went to his room where he noticed something different. “What happened here?”

“Don’t you remember? We were painting,” Bumblebee explained. He wanted to ask him if he remembered anything else but he winced as his systems reminded him of his current injuries. He ignored them and helped his friend to the berth. “You should recharge some more, ‘kay?”

“Okay…” Bulkhead slowly sat on the edge of the berth before laying back but as he did a notification of a new memory file appeared. He opened it and felt his faceplates heat up despite his recharge cycle starting up once more. “Hey Bee?”

“Yeah?”

“… did… did we…um… y-you know?”

Bumblebee paused where he was trying to cover his friend with the berth sheet, ignoring another notification that he had some injuries to attend to before tugging the sheet over the other mech. “… yeah, we did.”

“Oh.” A brief klik of silence before he spoke up once more. “Was I… good?”

Bee looked down at him and could see even though he was on the verge of slipping back into recharge, he was still blushing. Smiling he leaned over and kissed him softly. “Yeah… you were really good, Bulkie.”

“Oh? I… I’m glad…” The feeling of his servo gently stroking his forehelm felt nice and his optics closed, recharge claiming him once more. The yellow mech was silent, watching his friend sleep he leaned down to kiss him once more before leaving him and retreating to his own room. Hopefully his latest obsession with fragging didn’t ruin his friendship with the other mech.

**Author’s Notes:** What can I say? First, no this is not the end of the request, this is only half of it. I’ve noticed even one-shots tend to have a great deal of plot and details written into it, and when JazztheTiger requested this from me I admit, I had a lot of fun with it. But as I began writing I began second guessing myself and I didn’t like where I was going or I found flaws in my original plan. Before I knew it, this file was growing to over 40 pages long so I decided to just half it. I have notes jotted down to continue the other half of the request so if you will please bear with me I should have it up soon. Just don’t ask how soon as I’m not sure myself.


	12. Cyberwolf ProwlxCyberwolf Bumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prowl has managed to check his secret of being a cyberwolf for years, until one night he loses control and shifts. Everything would have been find if bumblebee hadn’t decided to come looking for him and not he has to fight the urges to claim the annoying loud speedster as a mate.

**Disclaimer:** Transformers: Animated and everything related belongs to the rightful company Hasbro. I am in no way shape or form making money off this.

 **Author’s Notes:** Prowl has managed to check his secret of being a cyberwolf for years, until one night he loses control and shifts. Everything would have been find if bumblebee hadn’t decided to come looking for him and not he has to fight the urges to claim the annoying loud speedster as a mate.

Title: Bite Me!

Pairing: Cyberwolf ProwlxCyberwolf Bumblebee (Animated)

Request: KittyKatShMeow (AO3)

Nothing scared the Cyber Ninja-in-training. Not fighting Decepticons, not finding himself on a completely organic planet, and not even dealing with a team of mechs who each were so different it was a wonder he didn’t go insane from the pure chaos of it all. If asked Prowl would say there was nothing he was afraid of. But he also had a secret that no one knew about, one that he swore to never tell anyone and would take with him to the Well of the AllSpark. It was one of the reasons he hid himself in the asteroid field. For a while, things were fine and the last pupil of Master Yoketron was able to forget about his dark secret for a short while. Until, one night he failed to consider that the planet’s rock-based moon affected him the same way Cybertron’s own satellite moons did—and he was he was completely unprepared for it.

The black and gold mech tried to meditate, to control the wild urges he could feel taking over his processor but it was no use. The pull was getting stronger, the desire to transform was strong, he didn’t know if he would be able to keep from hurting anyone. Thank Primus he had found this abandoned building with a basement that hid his signal from the others, a haven where he could lock himself away and not worry about hurting those he had begun to care about, thanking Primus.

Too bad the ninja didn’t actually believe in the notion of Primus himself.

Data bombarded the scout’s processor as he scanned the building before him but once more his scans were ready negative signals. Once more he replayed his video feed and sure enough, he had seen the mech transform and dart inside so he had to be here! But why?

 _‘If he’s slacking off he is gonna be in so much trouble!’_ Bumblebee thought to himself but it seemed highly unlikely for the stoic to do that. Him on the other servo, though… He raised his servo, to comm the others and give them his location but instead lowered his servo and walked into the building.

It clearly had not been in usage for a long time, judging by the thick layer of dust in the air and the amount of trash littering the floor, and he wasn’t able to pick up any life signals at all. “Prowl?” he called out but there was nothing so he moved in deeper, activating the headlights of his alt-mode, trying to see if he could find the other bot. “Prowl?”

Spinal strut went rigid as the sound of his designation was heard. Was-someone called for him? No, impossible! No one knew he was here! _‘It was nothing. I need to focus,’_ he told himself with a grimace, trying to keep his control.

“I know you’re here, Prowl!”

Somebot was here! The growl was out before he could stop it when he recognized the audio but luckily it wasn’t loud enough for the other mech to register it. Prowl checked his chronometer. It wouldn’t be long before his transformation hit but if he could keep quiet long enough the annoying scout would leave and no one would ever know.

 _‘I just need—to focus,’_ he told himself but it was getting increasingly difficult. His servos gripped at his knee joints, wincing as the normally blunt tips of his digits began to sharpen, digging into the seams and gaps of his plating.

If Bumblebee was ever going to admit that he admired anything about the ninja, it was that when he didn’t want to be found, no one could find him. Sari had once said he was the champion of hide-and-seek. _‘Eyeah, like that’s something to brag about!’_ he thought to himself. Shaking his helm he made to leave but paused when he heard something. “Prowl? That you?” Silence but his curiosity was peaked so he moved to where he had heard the sound. There was nothing but as Bee turned to leave he noticed what appeared to be a trapdoor that hadn’t been closed all the way. In fact, as he moved closer he realized it wasn’t covered in as much junk as everything else. His logistic circuitry was glitching, telling his processor that this was a very bad process but he pulled it open with an audio grinding creak. “… Prowl? Y-You down here?” he called out.

A low growl emerged from the darkness but there was a very low whine at the end, as if the bot behind it was in pain of some sort. Bee tried to reach out to the ninja via his comm link but there was nothing but static. Telling himself that he was not afraid the yellow mech moved into the basement, heading down the stairs (wishing everything was Autobot sized seeing how he nearly fell down the stairs), pausing to scan his headlights over the interior but the basement was packed with even more junk than above but the growling was definitely getting louder. Bumblebee fought the urge to run and moved closer, his vocalizer on mute but following the noise he froze for an astrosecond before darting to the hunched over frame in the far corner.

“Prowl!! Are you alright??” he asked worriedly and was close to touching him when the sleek frame gave a violent twitch.

“B-Bummmb-b-blebee-e-e? What arrrre you doing he-herreee?”

“I-I followed you. And what do you mean by that? What are you doing here??” He looked around worriedly, trying to figure out where the growling was coming for but his sensors were telling him it was coming from the Cyber ninja himself.

Of all the glitching things to do, why couldn’t this annoyingly sweet bot understand he needed to be alone? Now he was regretting having not taken off for the forest outside the city like he originally wanted but it was too late and he didn’t thing he would have been able to make it without hurting someone innocent. Prowl winced as he felt internal circuity reformat itself, even his frame was beginning to hurt. “Y-You ssshould leave,” he growled out and watched with wide optics as deadly sharp claws dug deep furrows into the concrete floor.

Bumblebee shuttered his optics even as his faceplates pulled themselves into an angry frown. “Not without you, buster.” Determined to drag the motorcycle back if he had to, the scout reached out, curling his digits over a shoulder armor but froze when he felt the plating vibrate with the same intensity as the growling. And, did he suddenly grow in size? “Prowl? What… What’s going on?” he asked quietly.

“You… neeeed to le-eave… n-now.” The mech quickly moved away from the other mech as fast as he could, tearing through the trash and junk as though they were nothing, moving as far away from the yellow mech as possible but the basement was not that large and he did not trust himself to leave from here. There was the faint sound of something fragile hitting the ground he wouldn’t realize until later his visor had fallen to the ground, the corner of it breaking off. No, the last thing he remembered was pain as his reformatting continued, making him whimper and growl as the primal directive overtook his processor.

“P-Prowl!!” For a klik the minibot was thrown around, tripping over a piece of junk he landed on his side, grunting in slight discomfort. Oh, he was gonna have a dent to buff out later but still he forced himself to his peds, or would have had his digits not come across something that felt somewhat familiar. Frowning Bumblebee picked it up and tried turning on his headlights but when he fell over he badly cracked one so there wasn’t as much light as he would have liked. Holding the item up his soft blue optics widen when he found himself holding a broken visor, one that he never seen without the ninja. He found himself slowly getting to his peds, ready to shout for the other mech’s designation but his sensors were screaming at him that something was very wrong and that he was in very real danger.

 _‘Don’t turn around. Don’t turn around. Oh Primus, why am I turning around?!’_ Bee thought to himself, slowly turning around and allowing the single light of his working headlight to shine on the heavy black and gold-plated form standing behind him. It was still the same general shape and build of the mech he called a teammate (and tentative friend) but it was taller and slightly broader. It was also growling deep enough to make his own plating vibrate; the light shook as it moved up and for a brief moment, it illuminated the snarling faceplates of a fierce and dangerous-looking cyberwolf. Lip plates opened but nothing came out, even as terrified optics caught sight of the golden claws that flexed, ready to tear him open. Bumblebee really thought for a moment, he was going to be offlined here and no one would ever know. He was shaking so hard his own plating was on the verge of falling off as the growling frame moved closer to him, following him even as he once more fell over his peds and landed heavily on his backplates, intensely glowing blue-white optics staring down into his own frighten optics.

There was something about this bot that kept the cyberwolf from destroying this intruder, but he wasn’t sure what. Part of him felt that he should know him, that he was not to be harmed, but that had never stopped him before. There was also a scent clinging to him, something that tickled his olfactory sensors; he crouched over the smaller frame and lowered his muzzle to the smaller mech’s neck cables, inhaling deeply. Yes, there was something there but what was it? He continued sniffing at the brightly colored plating, pausing now and then to growl when the smaller frame shifted, telling him not to move. At least the mech knew when to obey but the lower his helm moved down the stronger the scent was becoming. He had to know what it was, he had to claim it for his own before someone else took it away from him!

 _‘W-W-What is he doING?!’_ Bumblebee squeaked, faceplates turning an interesting shade of red as the snout was now sniffing at his pelvic plating with far more interest than he cared for. His servos tried once more to pull himself away, ignoring the warning growls as well as the command to activate his stingers, but when a curious glossia gave the front panel a lick, he couldn’t help but jump and reacted before thinking of the consequences. “Cut it out!!” he yelled loudly (and no his vocalizer did not rise in pitch), sitting up he struck the mechanimal in the side of the helm with a tightly curled fist. There was a loud and pained yelp, the helm snapping to the side but it was quickly followed by a very deep, very loud, and very upsetting growl. “… oh slag. Prowl, I-” Bee’s words were cut off by a scream of pain as incredibly sharp dent sank deeply into his stabilizer, breaking through plating and piercing straight into the protoform. The scout was already regretting having followed the ninja here but he was running on pure instinct and his survival protocols were telling him to get the slag outta there by any means possible. He cried out in pain as the cyberwolf lifted his helm, and thereby him as well, he had no choice and let his servos transform into his stingers and drove them as deeply as he could into whatever part of the mechanimal he could reach. The sharp sting of electricity frying circuitry was nothing compared to the pain in his upper stabilizer but it had the desired result as the powerful denta let go with a pained yelp. Ignoring the incredible pain Bee scrambled to his peds and forced himself to run, tripping over the stairs he turned when he reached the top and blew out the stairs and once more forced himself to get out.

 _::O-Optimus!! Bulkhead!! Ratchet!! Anybot, come in!!::_ he shouted into his comm but he cursed when he still heard static from the other line. Leaning against the closed door, Bumblebee looked down and winced at the mangled mess he was in. Those denta quite literally tore into him deep enough that he could make out the strut but it didn’t stop him from wrapping his servos around the wound, trying to stop the heavy flow of energon and oil. He tried to initiate a transformation but his systems denied the command, errors filling his HUD that he had a critical injury that needed immediate medical repairs. “No slag!!” he cursed at himself. The minibot jumped when he heard something crashing in the basement but vented heavily when he realized that Prowl no doubt tried jumping for the door only to crash. Maybe, as a cyberwolf he couldn’t use his jump jets. Oh thank the Thirteen! He may actually survive this-

The floor before him burst open, golden claws tearing through the floorboards like paper, energon stained denta snapping at the air as those same servos struggled to pull the slightly larger frame up. The hum of booster jets was barely heard as the broken planks scratched at the frame, but the optics were nearly white in rage and the cyberwolf’s struggles increased when he saw him leaning heavily against the door.

-or maybe not. Really? Wasn’t there anything the ninja could not do? Bumblebee couldn’t transform, and his stabilizer was starting to drag him down, but it didn’t stop the minibot from heading for the door. He didn’t bother to look back as he ran, hissing behind tightly clenched denta he threw junk behind him as he moved, silently cheering himself on when he heard a small yelp but as soon as he was out he slammed the door closed and initiated the sequence to transform into his alt-mode. Of course, his systems denied it but the scout overrode the command and let out several curses he had heard the veteran medic say when he thought no one was listening as he shifted into his vehicle mode. Tires screeched loud as he took off down the streets just in time for the enraged mechanimal to burst through the door. It growled lowly but crouching low onto his clawed servos, he took off, his dark plating blending into the darkness of the building’s shadows as he followed after his prey.

* * *

Bumblebee drove as fast as he could, honking his horns as the organics and vehicles that were moving far too slow for him. Luckily it was late so many of them weren’t out but it didn’t stop him from racing along the streets. And he wasn’t going in a straight direction, no he was turning corners so hard he could feel his rims getting badly scratched up and on two wheels no less. That didn’t stop him or the fact that he could feel fluids building from his injury. All he was thinking about was getting to the warehouse and losing that crazy mechanimal in the process.

_::Bumblebee! Come in!::_

_::Ratchet!!::_ Oh Sweet Solus Prime, he didn’t think he’d ever be so happy to hear that cankerous old mech in his lifecycle! _::I-I need help!::_

_::We’ve been trying to reach you for nearly a joor! What’s your location?::_

_::Frag if I know! I’m too busy keeping my plating from getting chewed on by a cyberwolf!::_ he snapped, tires skidding as he swerved to avoid some humans crossing the street. Purposely speeding up to a parked vehicle he used it as a ramp to sail over them. Systems warned him of his fuel pumps overheating but he didn’t care.

_::What are you talking about? There’s aren’t any cyberwolves on this primitive planet.::_

_::Tell that to the bite mark on my staaahhhh!!::_ Something heavy and sharp smashed into his side, causing him to lose control and end up skidding front end first into the window display of a store. Thankfully it was closed so there were no organics around to get hurt, his tires were not so lucky as the jagged pieces of glasses tore holes in them and the impact caused his own processor to crash. The last thing he remembered was seeing a pair of glowing blue-white optics coming up from behind via his rearview mirror, and Ratchet yelling at him over the comm link that the others were on their way. He tried gunning his engine but all he did was shred the rubber of his ruined tires, his rims creating loud screeching noises on the sidewalk. He was trapped. What was worse was that his systems were pending emergency stasis in an effort to preserve what little energy he had left. He tried fighting it but it was no use.

 _‘… if… if, I’m gonna… be offlined… then-then at least… I… I won’t… feel… it…’_ he thought, his display darkening as he succumbed to it.

* * *

Bumblebee never liked getting up in the morning. It wasn’t that he was lazy, sometimes he just felt like he never recharged enough so when he felt his system coming online slowly he groaned to himself. _‘Oh c’mon… gimmie at least another breem…’_ he grumbled to himself but something felt very—unusual. For one thing his system was currently running a full medical diagnostic. Okay, his processor could use a good defrag but this was way more thorough than he usually did. And he also found himself unable to move or even online his optics. The scout did not like being this vulnerable, especially when he heard movement next to him. He opened his mouth plates to speak but the fear grew when he realized his vocalizer was not only mute, but the most movement he could do was twitch a single digit. _‘W-What the frag is going on!?’_

“Bumblebee, you need to relax,” came the worn and tired vocalizer of the team’s CMO, followed by a heavy servo that gently rested atop the minibot’s helm. “As soon as the scans are done everything will come back online, fully operational.”

 _‘When is that gonna be??’_ Maybe it was a good thing he could speak as he could nearly taste the bitterness of his own whining but there was little else he could do at the moment. Venting deeply the scout forced himself to relax and read the readout of his logs. He didn’t understand most of it but apparently there were a number of errors that needed to be dealt with. His processor also went through a complete defrag and his fuel pumps were running smoothly. But why did he feel like he was forgetting something very important? He was startled from his thought process when his HUD read 100% and the next thing he saw was the ceiling of the med bay. Shuddering his optics, he looked around and tilted his helm ever so slightly to look up at the medic.

“… how, long was I out for?” he asked slowly. Part of him wanted to immediately jump off the medical berth but he could still feel multiple cables hook up to his medical ports. And the last thing he wanted was for the medic to yell and hit him.

“Nearly two solar cycles. Most of it was spend in a self-induced emergency stasis, the rest in medical stasis,” Ratchet explained as he went about removing the cables one by one. Carefully winding them up he put them aside and helped the minibot slowly sit up. “Extend your stabilizer for me.”

Bumblebee did so without thinking about it and looked down. Most of the plating had been removed so he saw fresh weld marks on his upper stabilizers, and his protoflesh now bore a series of silver lines representing scars. He frowned as he watched the cables shift as he extended it several times. He looked up when the older mech asked him if it hurt but he found himself shaking his helm. “No. Nothing hurts, but what happened?”

“You tell me. Last comm I received from you was that you were being chased by a cyberwolf.” Grabbing the repaired plating Ratchet began to reattached the armor, carefully sliding the pieces into place and having the scout once more test his range of motion. “Less than a joor later Prime and Bulkhead came racing into the factory, having towed you back as fast as they could. I had to manually transform you out of vehicle mod so I could tend to your injury. It was touch and go for a long time but you pulled through, kid.”

“A cyberwolf.” A video file came up and he found himself reliving the evening from two nights ago. Of following Prowl to an empty building, finding him growling and then being confronted by a massive mechanimal. He remembered it sniffing him then he struck it, only to make it mad enough to bite him. His servo came out and wordlessly covered the scarred area despite it being hidden by his plating. H remembered driving as fast as he could, comming with Ratchet, but then it was followed by a crash and then onlining here. “Prowl… where’s Prowl?” Bee asked immediately.

“He’s on patrol. What’s he got to do with this?”

“He’s-!” But Bumblebee stopped himself from answering. Had he really seen what he thought he saw? Did Prowl really change into-into a cyberwolf? How was that possible? “Um, can I ask you something, Ratchet?”

“I rather you answer my question but seeing how you’re not about to offline due to severe energon loss, go ahead,” he said calmly as he sat back on his chair, crossing his servos over his chassis.

“… c-can a bot… turn into a mechanimal?”

“You mean, as an alt form?”

“Not exactly.” Bee tried to explain what he meant but none of it made sense. Okay, so the cyberwolf had the same color scheme as Prowl, and as far as he knew he was the only other bot in the building, but it couldn’t have been him. That mechanimal was much bigger and he didn’t recognize him at all! Venting softly the minibot looked away. “Nevermind.”

The medbot frowned but he could tell the scout was still tired and could no doubt use a decent recharge. Standing he came up and patted his shoulder. “I already commed Prime that you’re up but no patrolling or transforming for at least another full solar cycle. Not until your levels are back at full capacity. Got it?”

“Yeah, which means I’m stuck on monitor duty, right?”

“Not this time.” Seeing the surprised look on his faceplates made the corner of his derma plates quirk ever so slightly. “Go on, I’m sure you could use some energon and a good recharge without having me watch over you.”

“Thanks, Ratchet!” Stepping down from the berth the yellow mech left the medbay. Apparently, it was just the two of them which was fine, he wasn’t sure he could answer anybot’s questions right now. He found himself moving slowly as he grabbed a cube of energon and was surprised when he found himself downing it in record time and then another and another. He forced himself to stop before he attempted a fourth cube and slowly made his way to his room. It was strange, he rarely could finish two cubes and yet he felt as though he was starving. And why was he moving so slow? _‘Maybe I could use some recharge. I mean, Ratchet said so.’_ But the scout didn’t want to recharge so as soon as he entered his room he grabbed a portable game Sari had given him and reclining on his berth, began playing. He had barely started it when his systems entered sleep mode, the game falling from limp digits. While the medic had repaired the torn stabilizer and updated the antivirus program on the scout’s system, it failed to detect an unknown code that was slowly integrating itself into the young mech’s system. It would take time, but nothing could stop it as it began to alter even the most basic of binary coding.

* * *

After a full solar cycle Bumblebee was back on the streets of New Detroit, tracking down AllSpark fragments, fighting Decepticons, and helping out the organics. The scout soon forgot about that night with the cyberwolf but he also began exhibiting strange behavior such as growling when he was agitated, attacking the Decepticons with more aggression than usual, and drinking more energon than he usually did. He was also found staring at Prowl with such serious intent but the minibot couldn’t explain why he did those things; he wasn’t even aware of doing anything different. Unfortunately, there was a breaking point one night when Bumblebee and Prowl ran into the speeding thief known as Nanosec breaking into a jewelry store.

“Don’t you walking trash cans have an off-switch?!” the speedster snapped.

“Keep it up, buster! I’m still the fastest thing around!” the yellow mech growled, engines giving a loud rumble beneath the hood.

Prowl noticed this and gave the other Autobot a look of concern. “Bumblebee, we should call for back-up,” he said calmly, fighting back the urge to growl right back at him.

“No! I can take him!” Who did the ninja think he was? He beat this creep before and he could do it again, without any help!

The redhead saw them smirking and grinned. “All talk, no action, like always!” In a burst of speed, he was gone but not before scoring a long scratch along the yellow compact’s side. “See ya, slow poke!”

The scratch was superficial at best, nothing a good buffing couldn’t fix, but the vibrating growl Bumblebee let out said it was more than just that. “He’s mine,” he snarled and with a sharp sequel of tires took off after the thief. He ignored the frantic cry of the other mech as he chased after him.

The wind seemed to howl as it brushed over his frame, spark racing wildly in his chassis, fuel pumps running harder and faster. Bee enjoyed racing, enjoyed the thrill and rush it gave him but this was different. In the past he had trouble keeping up with the thief and nearly burnt out his engine but not only as he able to keep track of him, he found himself cutting between buildings and using alleyways to either catch up and force him to take another route. It was as if he was trying to corner the thief into a corner, like a predator going after his prey.

Nanosec panted heavily as he zoomed down a street, still clutching at what little loot he managed to keep from dropping. “What the heck is that bot’s problem?! He’s never been able to keep up!!” Narrowing his eyes he figured it he hit the highways he could lose him in the traffic but he yelped when he saw the yellow compact sharply turn a corner, engine rumbling angrily as the headlights shined on him. Skidding to a halt the red-head looked around before darting into an alleyway, smirking to himself. “Too slow, rust bucket-!” He slammed face first into a brick wall, leaving a faint imprint of his body in the grime of the alleyway before slowly falling to the ground. It left him dazed but his eyes widen as he looked around. “Oh damnit, I made a wrong turn!” he had meant to turn down another street but he quickly got to his feet, loot forgotten and raced to get out but he bounced off the front of the car, landing heavily on his ass. “Ow!! What’s the big idea, bolts for brain?!” He snapped only to yelp as the car moved forward, forcing him to back up until his back hit the far wall. He was trapped with no room to speed away.

Finally, he had caught the annoying organic! The thrill of the hunt never got him this charged before, he let out a growl of satisfaction as he transformed, towering over the thief he reached down to grab him, ignoring the way he struggled in his grip. “Now who’s faster?” he growled lowly, smirking in satisfaction.

“What, you want a medal or something?!” What was it about these bots and picking on him? Nino kept struggling, ignoring what the bot was saying and wincing when he felt his grip tighten to the point where it was actually starting to hurt. “Let go already, will ya?!”

“Quit squirming!” Bee growled, now using both servos to try and keep him from moving around but his helm snapped to the side when he made the mistake of pulling him closer and receive a sharp kick to the side of his helm. He shuddered his optics but there was a soft tinkling of broken glass falling and static obscuring the visual of one optic.

“Not so tough are ya now, huh?!” Once more he tried struggling against the grip but instead of loosening it tightened instead, this time tight enough that it made him gasp in pain. He was prepared to yell at the bot to let him go but a vibrating growl seemed to fill the alleyway, making him freeze in place. Nino felt all the blood drain from his face, eyes opening wide, his heart skipping a beat in terror as the mech looked at him, his broken eye glowing a dark, menacing color.

“Big mistake,” the scout snarled angrily.

* * *

“Bumblebee!!” A black and gold motorcycle raced down the street but there was no sign of the yellow compact. Prowl found himself cursing the organics and their city, unable to detect the smaller mech anywhere close by but he was also cursing himself for having not said anything. He gave the minibot his space and was relieved when he thought it had been a dream, but then he noticed the changes before anyone else. He had hoped the virus had failed, that Ratchet had managed to stop it.

 _‘No! I-I’ll prove that it failed! That I didn’t infect him!’_ he gunned his engine, forcing it to go faster. But he needed to find him first and stop him-

He skidded to a halt, the holoimage of the motorcycle cop growing tense. The air was quiet save for the running of his own engine but he knew he heard something. Just as he about to continue one he heard the sound again. A sound he was all too familiar with, and one that spelled danger for those who happened to chance by. Gunning his engine, he took off down the street, turning corners sharply he let the holoimage fade away just as he turned into a closed off alleyway, flipping into the air he transformed and landed on his peds, staring at the sight before him. “Bumblebee, stop!!”

The terrified form of Nino Sexton, aka Nanosec, was on the ground, struggling to get away. His speed-enhancing suit torn to shreds, one of his wheels in complete disarray, wires sparking from torn metal. Hunched over him, about to slash at him with sharp-looking digits, was a yellow frame with a broken optic glowing with a feral light. The ninja reacted without processing the data and roughly tackled the other mech, pinning him to the ground. He snarled when those same sharp claws scored over his chassis, nearly damaging his holo-generator and resisted the urge to do the same to him.

“Bumblebee! Listen to me!” Prowl growled but the other mech continued to fight him, growling back angrily.

Nanosec was terrified, the way the robot attacked him was like he was some monster and he wanted him dead! Scrambling to his feet he tried to take off only to fall flat on his face. Only one wheel was working on his suit, but just as he was about to use the other he cried out in pain as a bolt of electricity hit him from behind, completely frying the other wheel and the rest of his suit.

The scout growled lowly, having kicked the other mech off him his stingers activated as he attacked his prey and was prepared to finish the job but yelped as a frame roughly pinned him to the ground once more. He snarled and growled, twitching to get out from under the other mech but a very deep, low, threatening growl echoed in his audio as a sharp pressure hit the back of his neck cables. Bee didn’t know why but his whole frame went limp, falling into a submissive position with a low whine. Eventually the sharp claws turned back into his slightly blunt digits and his broken optic lost the feral glow. The weight on his backplates let up and he was able to slowly push himself up so he was sitting on the ground.

“Bumblebee, are you alright?”

Blinking the yellow minibot looked at the mech kneeling before him. “Prowl? Wha… what happened?” hearing a low groan he looked over at the twitching form of Nanosec and the damage he was in. “What happened to him??”

“He’ll be fine but we should leave before Captain Fanzone arrives.” Extending a servo the Cyberninja helped the bot off and making sure the thief wasn’t going anywhere, they took off. This time there was no hiding from the truth, the ninja just hoped the scout was willing to listen and accept his help.

The two drove for a while and ended up on the other side of the city, making sure to keep a low-profile the two entered an underground garage and transformed once they were certain they were alone. Prowl wasn’t sure where to begin but asked Bumblebee what he remembered the night he was attacked.

“I already told Ratchet and Optimus, something with really sharp denta tried to take a bite outta me,” he vented, crossing his servos over his chassis. “What does it matter anyway?”

“You said you were attacked by a cyberwolf.”

“You’re the nature lover, but I seriously doubt a wild mechanimal from Cybertron would be here.”

Prowl vented heavily; he really didn’t want to do this, but if he wanted to help his annoying friend he had to tell him. “What did the mechanimal do?”

“W-Well… it… it looked down at me, like it was curious, but then… then…” The brightly colored mech frowned and crossed his servos over his chassis, faceplates turning an interesting shade of red. “Then—he did something I did not want!”

The ninja looked at him in concern. Did, did he do something beside the bite? “What did he do?” The scout refused to answer him but he moved forward and gripped him by his upper arms, forcing him to look at him. “What happened?”

“He licked my panel okay?!” The ninja immediately let go and backed away, looking at him with wide optics. “That—thing, was growling and then he licked me, so I hit him in the helm and I guess he didn’t like it because he bit me. Then… I ran off.” That was something Bee wasn’t proud about but if he had stayed that thing would have offlined him for sure!

The taller mech was frozen on the spot. Had, had he actually licked the minibot? He tried to access the memory file from that night but there was an internal encryption he could not break and knew it must have had something to due with his virus. He was dimly aware that the scout was still talking, nervously pacing back and forth before leaning back against one of the garage’s support pillars, a servo rubbing at his upper stabilizer as though it was still hurting him. Prowl could feel a low growl fill his chassis, threatening to burst free but he forced it back. “How did you come across something like that?” he asked instead, ignoring the drive to continue where they had left off.

Bumblebee shuddered his optics and slowly straighten up, turning his optics to him. “I, was looking for you,” he admitted slowly. “I tried comming you but you blocked me, and I saw you taking off without telling anyone so I followed. You… you were in some kinda basement, I think? And I think you told me to leave… but that’s where I found the cyberwolf.” Now that he said it aloud, the scout’s processor was pulling out images of the mechanimal and its coloring in the low light did have a very similar color structure to the ninja, in fact, there was a lot of similarities between the two but—it wasn’t possible!

… was it?

“Bumblebee… I…” The ninja wanted to say something, anything, reach out and comfort him but his servo fell and he couldn’t look at the scout.

“No…” No way this was possible. Sure, they weren’t best friend but there’s no way he would’ve attacked him like that! “Prowl.” He winced at the way his vocalizer seemed to crack and called out for the ninja once more. “Look at me and tell me you didn’t attack me that night. Please, tell me it’s not true.” Silence filled the area and with it, a fragile trust was broken. The minibot swore he could feel his spark die out even as he shook his helm, taking a step back and moving around the pillar. “No…”

“I’m so-”

“ _Don’t!_ Don’t say it!” he snapped angrily. “I-I came looking for you, I thought you were slacking off or even that you were hurt and you-you… you attacked me!”

“I didn’t mean to! It’s true, I’m a cyberwolf but only during certain cycles and even then I’m unaware of what happens during those times. I never realized I had bitten you until it was too late. I had hoped that I didn’t have a chance to upload my virus into your system.”

“Well, you did! So, what’s the antivirus?” Bee scowled, angrily putting his servos on his hips. When the ninja refused to answer him he felt a strong urge to purge. “… there’s nothing to stop this?”

“It’s the reason you found me on that asteroid. But Bumblebee, I can help you get through this, I just need you to trust me.” Perhaps not the best choice of words as the yellow mech glared at him with angry optics.

“Trust me?! You did this to me!!” Bee screamed at him angrily. “Stay the slag away from me, Prowl!! I don’t want your help and I don’t need your help!! Ever!!”

“But-”

“Frag off, you-you asshole!!” Transforming the yellow compact took off with a sharp squeal from his tires, speeding out of the unground garage, purposely angling his rearview mirrors away from the ninja. Never had he felt so betrayed and thanks to him there was no chance of being normal but the scout was determined to find a cure and if he couldn’t, then he would deal with this alone.

* * *

Things were tense within Team Prime, especially when the scout and ninja were in the same room. No amount of talking from the other Autobots could make them get along that it didn’t take them long to just stop trying. Prowl would also spend most of his time in his room or patrolling, increasing his meditation but for Bumblebee things were getting worse. He found himself getting upset over the smallest thing, growling at others and nearly attacking them when he was startled unexpectantly. During skirmishes with the Decepticons he went after them with much more aggression than he usually displayed. The only bot who seemed able to bring him under control was Prowl and those more often than not lead to fights that lead to energon being drawn. But things grew worse as the planet’s moon was nearing its cycle.

Bumblebee was wordlessly pacing his room, growling/whining to himself. His protoform felt way too hot, his plating felt all wrong, and he had this powerful urge to sink both her digits and denta into something. He had already shredded the coverings on his berth and scored slash marks along his door and window. A message kept popping up in his HUD but he ignored it and dropped to his knee joints in the middle of the room, swallowing the pitiful whine that threaten to burst free.

 _‘W-What’s wrong—with me?’_ he asked himself. The same message popped up, making him growl in irritation but he opened it and read it. His optics widen and the heat in his system seemed to increase ten folds. _‘No… oh Primus, no… this-this has to be a mistake! I can’t! Not now!!’_ Maybe if he stayed holed up in his room, he could wait for this to pass.

A knock on his door broke him from his thoughts followed by the one vocalizer he did not want to hear right now. “Bumblebee? It’s Prowl… we need to talk.”

“Prowl…” Oh he did not just purr that mech’s designation! It was his fault to begin with! “Go away!!” he snapped with a low growl, wincing at he felt some of his coding kick in followed by a burst of pain he had never experienced. Doubling over he watched with terrified optics as his digits began to change, growing into sharp claws that dug deep furrows into the ground. _‘I-I hafta get outta here!!’_

The ninja frowned at he door but he was not leaving until the scout listened to him. “Bumblebee, I need to speak with you, it’s important.” He heard something breaking from the other side of the door and shuddered his optics. Was the transformation already happening? “Bumblebee? Are you alright?” There was no answer so he pressed his audio to the door but at its highest setting he couldn’t hear anything. Frowning he opened the door and grimaced at the mess inside but he paused when he detected a peculiar odor in the air. He tried ignoring it but it was difficult, especially when he felt his mechanimal side react with a low growl. He turned to leave when he noticed that the window was open which could only mean Bumblebee was gone, but the city was not safe for him, especially now. As much as the scout hated him, he had to find him and help him.

* * *

Bumblebee wasn’t sure why he was speeding, or why he was heading for the city limits, but he was pushing his engine as hard as he could. He purposely turned off his comm link, ignoring pings from his team. All too soon his tires touched the rough terrain of the woods outside the city, getting off the beaten trail and swerving between trees left and right. He didn’t know where he was going but his systems were telling him to get away, to find some sort of shelter so he wouldn’t be vulnerable. Bee was more than happy to do so but pain radiating from his spark through his entire sensory network, making him skid to a halt and transform into his root form.

“W-What’s—happening—to me!?!?” The pain was so bad, it was like he was transforming but it had never hurt before. He gripped at his helm as he stumbled on his peds, feeling the shift of circuits and wires inside but with a scream he dropped down onto all four, clawing at the ground with clawed digits. His frame grew slightly larger, taller and slightly wider but the most obvious of chances were his faceplates growing longer, forming into a mechanimal’s snout and flickering audio shells. Backstrut arched as a scream melding into a loud howl erupted free from the bot’s vocalizer as a tail emerged from just above his aft. The transformation left the mech in question exhausted, stabilizers shaking, frame trembling as pain faded away but the internal heat was still active and it made him whimper in desperation. His audio shells swiveled and despite the strong urge to recharge he lifted his helm up, a growl building in his chassis.

The black and gold cyberwolf quietly approached the yellow and black frame, intaking the air and growling lowly himself. It was such a sweet scent in the air, something he had longed to smell again but also wanted to taste. However, when he tried getting closer the other mechanimal growled and backed up, audio shells folded back and denta bared. He echoed the growl with one of his own but continued moving forward. This one was unclaimed, and while there were no other alphas around, he wasn’t going to take a chance at losing such a find.

The yellow mechanimal crouched low, moving back away from the other cyberwolf but paused when he picked up on his scent. There was something strange familiar about him but he couldn’t place where. Allowing him closer he cautiously sniffed at him, watching him do the same, growling in warning when the olfactory sensor became a bit too invasive and brushed over his tail he turned to snap at the wolf, forcing him to step away.

“[Back off!]” he snarled angrily.

“[Bumblebee?]” Despite the low growling the turned scout recognized the vocalizer.

“[Prowl? Is… it _is_ you.]”

He slowly nodded and took the brief pause to move closer. “[Are you alright?]”

Was he serious? Did he really ask him that? Gone was any fear he had building, replaced with a growing anger and he had the perfect target to lash out at. “[You… got some bearings on you to ask me that,]” he growled angrily, raising himself onto his back stabilizers, trying to look big and threatening. “[You did this to me! You-You bit me and turned me into a cyberwolf!]”

The ninja whined lowly, audio shells folding back but he forced himself to sit down, purposely showing he was no threat. “[I did. This is your first lunar cycle and I went to warn you, but you had runaway so I followed to make sure you were alright. I am sorry, I never meant for any of this to happen…]”

“[But it did.]” he was so mad, he wanted to bite him back so he knew what he went through but he felt some of the rage leave him when he noticed the sorrowful look on the other wolf-mech’s optics. He wanted to say something, not quite accepting his apologies but let out a pained whimper as he dropped to his servos, nearly curling in on himself. The heat programming was rapidly taking over, overriding his systems, it wouldn’t be long before he gave in to let it run its course. He whined when he felt another frame nudging at him, fighting the internal struggle to either strike at the intruder or submit.

The ninja-turned-mechanimal had never seen the smaller mech in such a position before and it worried him. His primal instincts were warring with his logistics, telling him to dominate and claim this one before someone else did but if he did it would leave them both vulnerable in the open. Looking around he recognized this part of the woods they were in and lowered his helm to nudge the yellow helm.

“[Bumblebee. You need to get up, it’s not safe out here,]” he explained even as he let out a low whine himself.

The turned scout trembled, frame aching and protoform feeling so hot, he wasn’t certain he could get up if he wanted to. Another nudge to his helm forced him to look up, and he let out another whine at the presence of the alpha next to him, the urge to submit stranger than before. “[P… Prrrr… ooowwl…]” he whined softly, tail curling to the side even as he tried lifting his aft up in the air.

As tempting as the sight was, the mech in question ignored the internal command to claim and roughly nipped the other wolf, causing him to yelp in pain. “[Get up and follow me,]” he growled lowly, looking down at him as he stood before him in a commanding stance. “[Now.}” The yellow mech stared at him for an astrosecond before getting up onto his peds, following him through the woods. His protocols had momentarily stopped, overrun by his new systems telling him to obey the other mech, no questions asked. He wasn’t sure where they were going until he noticed a cave in the distance. At this he paused; the last time he entered a cave was to escape a space-barnacle infected Prowl. He took a step back, audio shells lowering. Prowl gave him a questioning look before realization hit him. Instead of communicating with words he went up to him and licked the top of the yellow wolf’s helm, comforting him, letting him know there was nothing to fear. The smaller wolf whined softly, nuzzling the black wolf before following him inside.

The cave was empty but there was a faint scent in the air. Bumblebee wondered what it was as he slowly entered but seeing Prowl move about confidently he knew there was nothing to fear. The inside was comfortable, the back covered in a soft layer of what looked like plant life but he didn’t know what kind or really care. Laying down he tried ignoring the raging heat inside him but it was no use. He whined/growled as once more his protocols pinged, filling up his HUD. It was enough to make him want to sink his newly sharp denta into something. Deeply. Sensing the EM field of the other cyber wolf he lifted his helm and felt any tension he had leaving him as he rubbed his faceplates against his own. “[Prrowwwl…]” he whined softly, shifting his peds beneath his frame, feeling him move around him. The other mech-turned-mechanimal growled lowly but kept rubbing against him, sniffing and licking at his plating. Bee wasn’t sure what was going on, jumping slightly when he felt a slick glossia swipe beneath his tail but he didn’t pull back or tell him to stop. Instincts were running on high priority and he could feel any sense of himself as a mech falling into sleep mode as he lifted his hips up, angling his tail away as his panel slid open. His audio shells pinned back and he whined deeply as the same glossia licked at his bared valve, claws digging themselves deeply into the soft ground. The yellow wolf didn’t realize he had offlined his optics when the licking stopped and he felt the hot frame blanket his own, making him shift ever so slightly but he quickly stopped when he felt the vibrations of a warning growl at his backplates, warning him not to move. Never had he heard anything so arousing he whimpered softly but obeyed.

Alpha coding was quickly winning out, especially with the way the smaller wolf was submitting to him, begging to be claimed. True he was small but the black wolf knew that even so this one was worthy of being his mate. Prowl grunted as his hips jerk against the brightly colored aft, his pressurized spike rubbing and prodding at the slick folds of the valve. He had tasted so good, sweet and eager, he knew he had to claim him. He growled softly in lust as the smaller frame arched, raising hips higher in the air, a soft whine begging him he pulled back and wanted to howl in satisfaction as finally, his spike managed to slip inside, activating sensors and breaking through the soft silicone membrane. He growled when his mate-to-be yelped in pain and tried to pull away, growling at him but he was not going to let him go so easily. Leaning down the turned ninja bit the scout on the side of his neck cables, digging his claws into the soil beneath them, effectively caging the small frame with his own. “[Be still,]” he warned lowly.

“[Hurrts,]” the newly turned mech whimpered, trying to drop his hips only to yelp once more as the other mechanimal bit down harder, the claws of one of his servos digging into the seams of his hip. He obeyed the command not to move and after a bit the denta pulled back which was soon followed by a gentle lick, soothing away the pain. The pain in his valve still hurt and he couldn’t help but tense when the spike slowly withdrew until only the tip remained but then it pushed back in, once more brushing over nodes and sensors he didn’t think he had. Conflicting data filled his processor: the painful sting of his seal lingered but the way the spike moved across his internal nodes felt so good. He could feel a great deal of lubricant being produced, making the thrusting go smoothly but it also caused his internal temperature to rise. Bee’s vents expelled the heated air, panting to assist in the cooling down he whimpered softly at the deep growl from the bot above him. “[More… want more!]” he panted lowly, looking at the cyberwolf from the corner of his optic.

“[Yes. More.]” Sensing that he was no longer in pain the hips began to move faster, the lubricant making for a smooth sensation, the valve tightening each time he pushed in only to relax when he withdrew, heightening the pleasure. Part of him wanted to savor this, to enjoy the feel of the smaller frame pushing into him, to draw out the pleasure and hear more of the wonderful whimpers and pants coming from the scout, but his coding was demanding satisfaction. Growling deeply, he licked his mate’s neck once more before wrapping his servos around him tightly, and slammed as hard as he could into the clenching valve.

Bumblebee let out a mix of a yelp and a howl but eagerly pushed back into the mechanimal as he began moving harder and faster. His audios picked up the slick sounds of the spike ramming itself into his valve repeatedly, roughly caressing all his nodes, plating roughly grinding against one another. “[Yes! More! Frag me more!]’ he panted as his frame fell into complete submission, giving himself over to the powerful alpha. If his alpha wanted to use him, then he would gladly give himself over to his desires. His own hips pushed back into the others, stabilizers locking in place to keep from falling, condensation beading on both their frames he could feel the tip of the spike thrusting in so deeply it was touching the entrance of his gestation tank, demanding entrance. Perhaps it was his heat but his systems gave the command to open. That triggered something in the other wolf as he swore he felt the spike growing larger at the base, stretching the folds of his valve to the point of pain, the thrusting becoming more frenzied, the tip of the spike now pushing directly into his tank where it released copious amounts of transfluid directly inside. The scout couldn’t contain it and howled out his pleasure which caused the other to do the same, pumping the tank and valve with so much a mix of transfluid and lubricant seeped from the tight seal but neither of them gave it any notice. The frantic mating continued well into the evening, protocols being satisfied that soon their frames couldn’t take it anymore and they collapsed onto the torn-up floor of the cave. The yellow wolf was out, already slipping into deep recharge as the black wolf lovingly cleaned some of the condensation from his plating. Still intimately tied he curled himself around his mate and fell into a well-deserved recharge as well. He had found his mate and rightfully claimed him as his own.

* * *

It was late into the morning by the time Prowl woke up, his sleep cycle turning off. He didn’t online his optics immediately, going over his system diagnostics he paused when he saw that his alpha coding had activated and the protocol read as partially completed.

 _‘But, it should only activate when I detect another mechanimal in a heat cycle, especially if it’s a cyber wolf like myself.’_ He pulled out the memory clips from last night, reviewing them with a studious intent. He remembered sensing that Bumblebee was going to turn for the first time and had followed the mech when he ran off, the anger he felt when he realized he had been the one who had infected him, but then he was also aware of a scent in the air, one that gave rise to his own protocols. Fast-forwarding through the videos he stopped and replayed the files of him taking the smaller wolf, wincing when he realized he had taken his seal. Through it all his mechanimal instincts were running on high, satisfied that he had claimed the yellow one as his mate it still wanted him to fulfill his primary coding. _‘But, that would mean Bumblebee is-!’_ He was taken from his thoughts and optics onlined when he felt the frame he was curled against shift, systems slowly starting up.

If this was going to become a habit, Bumblebee was not going to be a big fan of it. His processor felt sluggish, his frame ached, and when he tried shifting sharp pain raced up his spinal strut. He was dimly aware of another EM field gently pressing into his own, a servo rubbing at his back plates. “Hurt… why, do I hurt?” he groaned aloud.

“Just relax. You also need some energon, it’ll help your self-repair,” Prowl said softly. Getting up he moved to the back of the cave where he opened a hidden storage container. Taking out two cubes he came over and after helping the scout to sit up, gave him his fuel. “How do you feel now?”

The scout slowly lowered the cube, venting softly as his systems no longer read low fuel reserves. “Okay I think… what happened last night?” he asked.

“… you turned, for the first time,” the ninja admitted quietly. “This cave, is usually where I come when I know I’m going to shift. That night in New Detroit, I lost track of the time.”

“You and your nature,” Bee teased and winced when he tried getting comfortable. “Why am I still hurting? What did we do?”

“… do you remember anything after you turned?” It would be easy to tell him, but regardless what his mechanimal’s primal protocols were demanding he was not going to give in so easily.

The yellow mech vented softly but looked down at the almost empty cube in his servos. “I remember it hurting. Hurting a lot. And… I remember you, and yelling at you, but then…” Heat. A raging heat burning threatening to melt him from the inside out. Fluids building, begging to be taken-

Optics widen impossibly wide, faceplates turning an interesting shade of red. The scout looked up at the ninja for confirmation but he refused to look at him, his own cheek ridges positively glowing. “… oh slag,” he whispered and dropped his blue gaze to the half-filled cube. Suddenly he wasn’t that hungry anymore.

“Bumblebee, I…” What was he suppose to say? That he was sorry? That he didn’t want it to happen? The ninja winced, knowing if he said that it would lead to hurt emotions and yelling. He did care for the smaller mech, but what if he didn’t feel the same way? He braced himself to say something but luckily, he didn’t have to as the other mech began speaking up.

“I don’t remember a lot, but I know you were there with me the entire time,” Bee began. “I told you I didn’t want your help but you still came, you didn’t tell anyone either. Why?”

“I betrayed your trust once without meaning to, and I know how difficult the first time turning can be.” His had not been pleasant and he didn’t remember a lot, but it was one of the main reasons he did so much meditation to begin with. “Bumblebee… may I ask you something.”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you have a heat cycle?”

The cube was nearly touching his lips plates, ready to take a sip but slowly the speedster lowered it down and set it off to the side. “Guess I should be thankful that wasn’t the first thing you asked me,” he mumbled lowly under his vents.

“So, you’re—a carrier? I thought they were all gone.”

“Don’t know about others but since I’m a minibot it’s even more rare, especially when the council cast the AllSpark away from Cybertron. The only bot who knows is Ratchet but he said my programming wouldn’t kick in for a few more vorns,” he said quietly. “I didn’t think much about it, I mean I never thought about finding a bond mate and having sparklings but now…”

“…” Now Prowl felt terrible; Bumblebee never wanted any of this and now for some reason the virus he infected him with activated his carrier programming. Venting under his breathe he slowly reached out and brushed his servo over his shoulder. “I am sorry for bringing you into my dilemma. I should have said something but…” He frowned, looking away. “But, not everyone is as understanding.”

“Prowl-”

“I’m not sure why it happened, but my cyberwolf side of my processor knew you were a carrier, and part of my coding is to find a suitable mate to carry on my CNA. But he saw you as a threat when you struck him.”

“W-What was I suppose to do?!” Bee yelled at him, raising himself onto his knees. “Slag it, Prowl! I get it, you had this big secret you didn’t want anyone to know but we’re a team! We’re suppose to be able to trust everyone no matter what secrets we have!”

“And how is my secret no different from yours?” the ninja demanded as he got to his own peds. “I told no one because I didn’t want them to see me as some mechanimal and seek to either lock me away or destroy me while I recharge.”

“You seriously think Optimus would have done that?? He’s not Sentinel!! And I never said anything because I didn’t think it was important!” the scout snapped back, scrambling to his own peds. “And I told someone, I told Ratchet! But you… you…” Bee wasn’t sure why but suddenly, all the anger, all the rage and frustration he was feeling, it was leaving him like an oil drum with no bottom. He could feel oil building in his optics and before he could stop them, they were rolling down his faceplates.

The other mech was confused, ignoring the soft growl the yellow one let out he gently tilted his faceplates up and stared at the tears. “Bumblebee… you’re-you’re crying.”

“S-S-So?” he growled weakly, rubbing the heel of his servo over one of his optics but they refused to stop. He made to turn away from Prowl, growling at him to leave him alone but the servos gently pulled him into his chassis and held him close. A soft revving was heard and it took Bee a few kliks to realize the ninja was revving his engines in a rough imitation of a purring growl. It was one he mimicked and soon, wrapped his own servos around the slender frame. With servos still wrapped around one another the two moved to the back of the cave, sitting in the middle of the nest of soft moss, thermal sheets, and a few pillows. Eventually the scout stopped crying but he didn’t pull away; slowly looking up his servo reached up, gently brushing digits over the smooth plating. “Prowl?”

“Yes, Bumblebee?”

“First, call me Bee. Second, will… will you, um, will you… m-m-mate with me?” Gah that sounded so embarrassing! “Ne-Nevermind!! Forget it!!”

Prowl shuddered his optics, looking down at the smaller bot as he tried hiding his faceplates into his chassis. Had, did he really want him…? After what he had done? “Bee…” His servo stroked the back of his helm and gently encouraged him to look up at him. He wanted to ask why but then it dawned on him. His sweet little scout had lost his seal in the grips of a heat, and while his cyberwolf side had wanted it, his mech side didn’t remember it.

“… Prowl? You okay?”

He didn’t answer with words, digits stroking the back of his neck cables the black and gold mech leaned down and kissed him softly, derma plating gently gliding against one another. Bee went tense for an astrosecond before slowly wrapping his servos around his own neck, straddling his lap. Prowl growled softly as they continued kissing, his glossia soon asking for entrance and coaxing the smaller mech to do the same. Bee seemed unsure of what to do so he mimicked what the ninja did to him. It felt good and the motorcycle arched into the touches that felt so good, further building up Bee’s confidence.

If mating was all this good, maybe he should have done this a lot sooner! But then again, he was lucky to have the ninja showing him what to do. Slowly breaking the kiss Bee looked at the ninja, his cheek ridges bright with a blush—and Prowl was smiling! “I like it better when you smile,” he admitted to him softly.

“I have something to smile about.” Leaning forward he kissed him once more and then leaned in to softly kiss his neck cables, flicking his glossia against some of the cables. The soft moan the scout let out was so sweet, he felt his mechanimal side react but he quickly pushed it back. No, he was going to make it up to him and show him what he had missed. The ninja continued kissing and licking a trail down the brightly colored frame, paying extra attention when he reached a certain spot that made Bee cry out in pleasure. Before he knew it, he was gently tracing the interface panel with feather-light touches with his digits. “Bee… are you sure you want this?” he asked, ready to pull back just in case.

The scout felt so hot, his frame was tingling in pleasure, he almost missed what the ninja said but looking down at him he realized he was asking permission. “Yes, Prowl…” he purred lowly, spreading his stabilizers wider he allowed the panel to slid open and welcomed the slender frame as he moved between them.

Unlike their first time mating the ninja made sure to pleasure his smaller mate, rediscovering known sensitive spots, seeing what noises he could make the scout utter and beg for more. Bee moaned and panted as his sensors kicked on high, his pleasure signals immediately pinging on high, and cooling fans rapidly clicking on. The first time together was a hurried and passionate affair, but as the motorcycle mech pleasured his compact mate he found his own wolf form gaining control. At first, he was worried Bumblebee would not want him, but the minibot surprised him by pulling him down atop of him. The pleasure was no less passionate as Prowl pushed his spike inside, grunting as he fragged his more than eager mate. Bee could feel like he wanted to shift himself, his denta growing sharp, digits turning into claws but that was the extent but he continued to cling to his mat, whimpering for him to go harder and faster. The two could feel their overload coming fast but the scout’s chassis opened to revealed his brightly pulsing spark. Above him a black chassis split open to reveal an equally bright spark. The two didn’t hesitate as they pressed their bared sparks together and overloaded with a cry/howl of pleasure.

Collapsing together in a heap Bee panted softly and continued to stroke the heavy mechanimal atop of him, feeling the trace of a recharge ghosting on the edge of his processor. But when he tried to shift he found that the wolf had tied with him. He felt heat fill his faceplates but hugged the bot closer. “Um, Prowl? How come…” He trailed off, too embarrassed.

“Can’t… cyberwolf coding…” he growled lowly into his audio, curling himself atop of him in an attempt to make sure he was warm, safe and protected. “Increase likelihood to spark mate…”

“… sooo, you want to get me sparked up?” There was a low whine but the minibot found himself smiling, offlining his optics and buried his own faceplates into the wolf’s warm plating. “Always wanted to have sparklings of my own. But next time ask me, don’t bite me… aft.” He didn’t have to look to know the tail was wagging but as Bee drifted into recharge he couldn’t keep the smile off his lip plates.

* * *

Prowl nervously paced outside the cave, pausing now and then to look at the entrance then resume his pacing. He checked his comm link but there were no missed messages from his mate. Letting out a whine he tried sitting down to meditate but he could not focus.

He and Bumblebee had been mated for a little over two stellar cycles, but it wasn’t until the last several months that the scout found himself sparked. Of course, they referred to Ratchet seeing how he was the only medic they could turn to, but they also had to come clean about their altered CNA coding. There were some shocked surprises but the team did not treat either of them differently. In the last month of the carrying process Bee had become restless and refused to stay in the warehouse, saying he didn’t feel safe and instead took to staying in the cave where the ninja had first taken him. He had to smile, it was where the two had come during nights of the full moon and where Bee also spent his heat cycles.

A sharp yelp was heard and the ninja was instantly on his peds, moving to the entrance of the cave but didn’t enter yet. He grew worried when he heard nothing and his spark began to race. Had something happened? Did he lose the sparklings? Did his mate suffer an internal injury? Should he comm Ratchet for help? Just before he could fell into full-blown panic he received a comm message telling him to come in. He hesitated for a klik before entering, his peds quiet on the soft ground.

“Bee? Are you alright?” he called out softly.

“… Y-Yeah… just, really tired…” came a breathless pant. The canary yellow mech lifted his helm up, smiling weakly as he spotted his mate. That had not been pleasant but the two tiny sparklings curled up on his chassis had made it more than worth it all. He let out a breathless chuckle at the shocked look on the black and gold mech’s faceplates. “Don’t you wanna say ‘hi’, ninja bot?”

“… y… yes…?” He hadn’t meant it as a question but he found himself moving ever so slowly, nearly crawling the remaining distance before stopping before them. Prowl looked down at the two tiny forms and smiling, reached out to ever so gently stroke the tiny helms. “They’re—beautiful.”

“Aren’t they?” Bee smiled and nodded to him. “Want to hold one?”

Blinking the ninja could only nod and slowly and very carefully, took one of the tiny forms. It was mostly a golden yellow with some black thrown in, and it was a mechling. Holding him close Prowl watched as optics onlined revealing their pale blue color, the same shape and color as his own. He looked so much like him but he could definitely see some of the speedster in him as well; lifting a servo he held a digit out and positively beamed when the sparkling reached out to grip offered digit tightly. “He’s strong… and the other?”

“A mechling, too,” the scout smiled, hugging the other sparkling. This one was mostly black with some bright yellow trimming, and shifted, letting out a large yawn as large optics onlined to reveal the same brilliant blue as his carrier. “I want to call this one, GoldBug.”

“I think it suits him,” Prowl smiled, watching as the little one looked around with curious and bright optics. Looking down at the son in his servos he held him up and saw that he was looking at him with a deep and intense gaze. “I would like to call him, Checkpoint.”

“Checkpoint. I like it.” Bee watched as Prowl settled next to him and wordlessly leaned into him, both of them cradling a sparkling each and watched as their sons began to power down, curling up against their chassises. “Goldbug and Checkpoint… welcome to Earth.” The two sparklings let out yawns and within mere moments, both were deep in recharge. The minibot was tempted to follow them even as he felt his sparkmate wrap a servo around his waist, pulling him close. “Prowl?”

“Yes?”

“… I forgive you for biting me.” He let his optics offline when he felt a smiling kiss being pressed to the top of his helm.

“I used to think being a cyberwolf was a curse, but it gave me the one thing I thought I would never be able to have.”

“Mmmm what’s that, Prowler?”

“A family.”

 **Author’s Notes:** Okay first, I am so sorry this took so long I had a bad mental block and then I lost inspiration but here it is! My first ever cyberwolf fic! Now, this was requested by KittyKatShMeow and I hope you like it! Description of cyberwolf Prowl and Bumblebee was by the very talented artist/writer JazzTheTiger (honestly I would have loved to have seen a show about cyberwolves!) so I hope I did them justice even a little bit.

Also, incase anyone is wondering about the names of the two saprklings, I got the names from the Shattered Glass universe (Goldbug is Bumblebee’s SG self; and Checkpoint is Prowl’s SG self). Check out TFWiki for more info on them.

_Next up:  Shattered Glass Optimus PrimexBumblebee (Prime)_


	13. SG Optimus PrimexBumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Bumblebee finds himself in a shattered universe where the Autobots are evil war mongrels and the Decepticons are Earth’s only hope, he has to decide just who’s side he’s really on. But things take a turn for the worse but he’s mistaken for his evil counter part and this version of Optimus is not about to let him go for a second time.

**Disclaimer:** Transformers: Prime and everything related belongs to the rightful company Hasbro. I am in no way shape or form making money off this.

 **Author’s Notes:** When Bumblebee finds himself in a shattered universe where the Autobots are evil war mongrels and the Decepticons are Earth’s only hope, he has to decide just who’s side he’s really on. But things take a turn for the worse but he’s mistaken for his evil counter part and this version of Optimus is not about to let him go for a second time.

“[Speaking.]” --> Bumblebee’s translation

Title: Shattered Perspective

Request: EmilieChan (AO3)

Pairing: SG Optimus PrimexBumblebee (Prime)

The first thing the Autobot scout realized when he onlined was first he was in pain, how did Miko say it once? Oh like “being hit by a bus” pain but in his experience, there were worse things that being hit by a bus. Still Bumblebee slowly sit himself up but refused to move when he felt his frame begin to pitch the side.

“[Okay. Don’t move, at least until my equilibrium system corrects itself,]” he beeped to himself. Thankfully it didn’t take long but it gave him a chance to look around himself but his optics shuddered in disbelief. He wasn’t back at the Autobot base, for that matter he didn’t know where he was exactly. This placed looked nothing like Jasper, Nevada he had begun to enjoy; this place looked like a warzone.

The area was barren of any lifeforms, any buildings that were around were in such shambles it looked ready to fall over with a strong breeze. The streets were badly torn up and craters covered the area, craters he knew came from explosions. It was clear a battle had taken place here, but how and why? Slowly the yellow mech got to his peds and looked around. Nothing seemed familiar at all and when he tried coming his team he was meet with nothing but static.

“[Okay think Bee, what happened?]” he asked himself, reviewing the last thing his processor recorded. It was a normal day at the silo, the human children were at school and things were quiet until Ratchet picked up moving Decepticon signals. Optimus has sent him and Arcee to investigate and report back their findings. What they had found was an energon mine with only a few drones mining the precious crystals. Taking the mine would have tipped the war in their favor, but there were twice as many guards and soon the two were under fire. Optimus had called for a retreat, not wanting to risk an all-out battle and had a ground bridge opened for them. Arcee was the first to go in as Bumblebee made sure to cover her and was racing in but some stray shots hit the crystals and there was a loud explosion. The scout had transformed and was racing as fast as he could but the ground bridge was becoming unstable and the next thing he knew was it seemed explode around him, knocking him offline. Could it have affected the bridge and sent him somewhere else? “[But where am I?]” It looked like Earth but there was a very unsettling feeling here. Deciding to look around, the scout transformed and drove off. He was completely unaware that he was being followed.

Over an hour later Bumblebee found himself skidding to a halt, headlights lighting up a sign that was barely standing. “[No… No i-it can’t be!]” But despite the distress of the sign and the wear of some of the lettering he could see read it and it made his spark sink.

JASPER City Limit

“[This, can’t be Jasper… it can’t be…]” But it made sense, even with most of the buildings in shambles or gone he remembered them. The high school, KO Burger, even the video game store Plug and Play. So, if this was Jasper, where was everyone? Turning he was about to transform and go in search of his human friend but immediately fell into his battle stance when he saw several vehicles approaching him. He could’ve driven off but he would always recognize those frames anywhere.

The Vehicons transformed, each of them holding blasters ready but they didn’t immediately open fire on the scout. In fact, they looked surprised. They began speaking to one another in low tones what was the scout was picking up was giving him a Pitt of a processor ache.

“Autobot! Scan the area. There might be more hiding around here.”

“Doesn’t this mech look familiar?”

“It’s an Autobot, we need to subdue him before he destroys the rest of the city.”

“Wait. I know that one! That’s the scout/brawler, GoldBug!”

“What?! But Commander Starscream offlined him close to a stellar cycle ago!!”

“Contact Knock Out!”

“I have him on the line! He says he’s on his way and he wants us to try and keep the Autobot here but not to engage him in a fight if we can avoid it.”

 _‘What is that suppose to mean? Why aren’t they opening fire? And who the slag is GoldBug?’_ None of this was making sense, neither was the fact that he wasn’t opening fire on them. Surely it had to be the shock of seeing the town he had grown to love doing something to him. Yeah, that’s what it was, this was some kind of trick, he was knocked out by the explosion, taken prisoner by the Decepticons, and Soundwave was messing with his processor in the hopes that he would reveal the secret location of their outpost Omega One. He found himself lowering his blaster as the Vehicons surrounded him, lowering their own, but once more lifted it up when he heard an engine coming at them. It was a sound he knew as well as his own and one that he did not recognize as a friend or ally. “[Who do they think they’re kidding? Like I can’t tell who they are just because they have a different paint job,]” he mumbled to himself as the white Aston Martin with polished chrome rims pulled up and transformed, revealing an equally confused and shocked mech. “[Knock Out.]”

“By the AllSpark… i-it can’t be!” he exclaimed, slowly approaching the mech, reaching out to him but stopped when the blaster was pointed at him. “Please, tell me, what is your designation”

“[What are you talking about? You know who I am!]” Bee snapped. “[And when did you change your paint?]”

Now it was the medic’s turn to frown. “What are _you_ going on about? I’ve never changed my paint before. But just to be sure…” he said and took a chance to scan the mech. It didn’t take long for the readings came back made him even more confused. “This cannot be accurate…”

“What are your order, Knock Out?” one of the Vehicons asked.

“… lower your blasters.” The Vehicons looked concerned but did so. “Bumblebee, I need you to come with my and I promise, we’ll answer all your questions.”

The Autobot frowned, glaring at the mech before him. “[Why should I believe you? You’re a Decepticon.]”

“And you’re an Autobot, but things are not as you know them.” Slowly he extended his servo out, pale blue optics showing a look of sincerity he had never shown before. “Please, trust me.” Sadly, the moment was ruined when laser fire erupted all around them, several of the vehicons were destroyed on the spot even as the others quickly moved to protect the two mechs.

“Autobots!! Call for back-up!!”

 _‘Autobots?’_ Bumblebee turned to where the firing was coming from and would have felt relief when he noticed the vehicles heading straight for them were of Bulkhead and Wheeljack, but not only were their colors schemes vastly different they were coming at them at break neck speeds that showed no sign of stopping. He would have been smashed into by the dark blue armored truck had Knock Out not tackled him off to the side.

“We need to get you outta here!” the medic shouted even as he got to his peds and pulled the still confused scout up. Lifting a servo to his comm link he began calling for back up. “Breakdown! We have two Autobot Wreckers trying to demolish us!”

“I’m on my way!”

Tires kicking up a cloud of dirt, the dark red and black Lancia skidded into a tight circle, transforming he unleashed his swords, smirking cruelly at the Vehicons that were still standing. “Care to dance, scrap heaps?” he grinned.

“Open fire!!” one of the drones ordered, all of them lifting their blasters up to shoot at him but the Wrecker deflected most of the gun fire, taunting them to aim better the leader failed to see the other Autobot coming up behind him until a large servo crushed his helm from behind, another punching its way straight through its chassis. He was offlined before his frame touched the barren ground.

“That’s one for me, _Jackie!_ ” the midnight colored truck taunted smugly.

“Shove it, wide load!” the Lancia snapped.

 _‘That… That can’t be Bulkhead and Wheeljack… they’re, best friends,’_ Bumblebee thought to himself but nothing was making sense. Sure, the two fought vehicons all the time, they all did, but they were making a sick game out of it seeing who could offline the most in the most brutal way possible as well as trying to get a rise out of the other. Hearing another engine racing at them he turned and was about to open fire when he saw an all too familiar armored truck heading his way, but instead of ramming straight for him it used some debris as a ramp, sailing over the still stunned Autobot, transforming and hitting the ground with his hammer. The shockwave was enough to sent the two Wreckers onto their afts but not for very long. Breakdown quickly straighten, glancing back at Bee. “What are you still doing here!? Run, now!!”

“[B-but…]”

“Knock Out! Soundwave is waiting for the both of you, now hurry up!” he shouted at them and turned, barely having time to lift his hammer to keep the mace from smashing his faceplates in. “Long time no see, ey Wrecker?”

“Last thing you’re gonna see is my servo ripping your spark out!!” the dark mech said, optics glowing an intense red.

“Breakdown!!” Knock Out was prepared to help his partner but was forced into a deadly dance with the crazed Wheeljack, his own servo transforming into his surgical saw. It wasn’t as effective in attacking from a distance as the Wrecker’s swords but he was able to dart in close enough to scratch and slash at the dark red plating here and there. “I don’t know why you’re both here, but it certainly can’t be anything good!”

“All you do it talk! Maybe I should do both our fractions a favor and rip out your glossia!” the Lancia growled and kicked the ‘Con in the midsection, making him double over and swiftly brought his sword in an arch, but even winded Knock Out was able to lean back so the tip of the sword sliced a shallow cut over a cheek ridge. “Slagging hold still!”

“Not a chance!” he growled, taking a brief klik to wipe the energon away. The two fought with all that they had, but they were no match for the raw brutality o the Autobots. The Decepticon medic once more darted in close, slashing his saw across Wheeljack’s battle mask and was prepared to knock him out when he heard a loud cry of pain. He looked up in time to see the light blue and gray frame of his partner slamming into him. He didn’t stand a chance of getting out of the way and both hit the ground in a heavy heap of metal. Still he struggled, even when he felt the pain of his servo being cut from his frame.

Bulkhead smirked as he rounded on the two downed mechs, roughly shoving the other Wrecker along the way who retaliated with a shove of his own. “Any last words, Deceptiscrap?” he growled.

“… y-you’ll never win this war,” the injured Aston martin spat.

“Says you.” He lifted the mace up, prepared to bring it down onto the injured mechs but he cried out in pain as a powerful blast hit him from behind, making him stumble. It was enough to scorch his plating that he angrily whirled to face the one who attacked him from behind. “Who the slag—Bug?? Is-is that you?!”

“[Why does everyone keep asking me that? Yes, it’s me! What are you two doing!?]” Bumblebee demanded angrily, trying not to look at the shredded remains of the Vehicons. Sure, he had destroyed a few during his time, but these two got a sick look of joy from it.

“What the slag is your problem, Bug? We’re Autobots, we destroy ‘Cons like this one,” Wheeljack sneered and purposely dragged the sharp tip of his sword over the side of the medic’s faceplates, purposely leaving him another scar to remember him by.

“[Stop it!]” Bee snapped angrily and shot at the Lancia’s peds, forcing him to back up. “[Where’s Raf, Miko and Jack? And agent Fowler?]”

“Who?”

“[Who—the humans!! The children that Optimus said we were to protect!!]”

“Bug, we’re Autobots. Since when the frag do we “protect” anything, especially a bunch of weak, carbon-based life forms?” Bulkhead sneered, slowly walking up to the very confused scout.

“[S-Stay back!]” Bumblebee said but something felt very wrong. Something told him this was not some elaborate trick of Soundwave and he was not suffering from an unknown virus. He vaguely heard Knock Out yelling him to run, to get as far away as possible. He hesitated but that proved to be his undoing as he turned to transform a ped shot out and kicked him in the helm hard enough for it to crash. Everything rapidly went dark just before his frame hit the ground.

Wheeljack narrowed his optics as he looked down at the yellow mech, planting his ped on his chassis and leaning down to take a closer look. “So, Big Bot wants us to bring him in?”

“That’s what he said. And he meant online and intact,” Bulkhead said as he allowed his mace to transform back into his servo.

“Too bad.” Stepping back, he allowed the larger Wrecker to pick the bug up as the green energy of their Ground Bridge opened up close by. The Lancia glanced at the two Decepticons, hearing Breakdown let out a groan. It would be so easy to end their miserable existence, but he growled when he heard the command to return immediately echo in his comm link. “Yeah yeah, heard you the first time,” he muttered as he sheathed his blades. “You two got lucky, but next time your helms will be decorating my ship.” Turning he entered the swirling energy as it closed behind him.

* * *

Bumblebee let out a low groan, feeling his processor ache dully. _‘Did I get hit by the same bus?’_ he wondered to himself and reached up to touch his helm. Or, he tried to but came to a rapid realization that his servos were strapped to a berth he was not familiar with. His optics onlined only for him to offline them when his vision was filled with a very bright light. _‘Bad idea! Very bad idea!’_

“So, finally awake, are we?”

Wait, he knew that vocalizer. The light was momentarily blocked and he slowly onlined one of his optics, staring up at the frame that was leaning over him. The primary color was there, but everything else was off, especially the dark faceplates and the glowing red optics. “[Ratchet…?]”

“None other.” Grinning like a crazed mech the medic moved away from the berth, picking up a data pad. “Despite my many tests the results are the same, you are indeed GoldBug. Or, should I call you Bumblebee, instead.”

“[Who else would I be?]” he snapped, struggling against the restraints but there was no give to them. Looking around he noted he was in what looked like a medical bay room but combined with a laboratory that reminded him darkly of Shockwave and dark rumors he had heard. The scout’s attention was drawn to the white and blue-green mech as he made his way to his side once more, this time holding a laser scalpel. “[W-What are you going to do?]” he beeped nervously.

“You may look like him, but there’s no way of knowing unless I perform a full dissection.” The way his lip plates curled into a frightening grin reminded the scout too much of the way the Wreckers took out those Vehicons. “Now hold still, I only have one chance at this-”

“Ratchet.” Servos froze as a deep, booming vocalizer echoed in the dark berthroom. “What are you doing to our guest?”

“Just making certain this isn’t some elaborate trick by Starscream. Then again, if they decided to use offlined mechs I may have to give him some credit,” he mumbled mostly to himself, lowering the laser scalpel enough that Bee flinched, trying to get away despite being restrained.

“Enough. Before I decide to reformat you into some far more useful.” The medical tool stopped before pulling back. Mumbling some rather nasty curses under his vents the medbot stepped back, allowing another mech to step into the limited light. This mech was taller, broader, similar frame structure that for a moment, the trapped scout thought he was being rescued but once more the colors were very off, and the optics were a menacing red instead of the calm and wise blue he had always known. The mech said nothing, staring down at the yellow mech for so long Bee couldn’t help but begin to fidget nervously. “Leave us.”

“Whatever,” Ratchet grumbled but the sounds of his peds fading away was heard, as well as a door opening then closing behind him.

Bumblebee thought he was going to be offlined, that any hope of being rescued was gone. He flinched when he felt a servo touch his own, cold digits moving up his arm. The touch felt so strange and unfamiliar, his sensors fighting with his processor; his optics were telling him one thing, but his spark and processor were fighting whether to give in or fight to escape. He flinched sharply, tugging even harder against the restraints when digits traced his insignia. Bee refused to look at the other mech, but could not fight the digits as they curled under his jaw and forced his helm to the other side, leaving him with no choice but to stare up at the charcoal gray faceplates. “[… Optimus?]”

“… it is you, my Goldbug,” he said in a soft almost gentle tone, but the icy cold feeling of his servo contrasted sharply, causing the scout to flinch. The gently touch stopped and slowly, hesitantly, pulled back only to release the restraints. “I know you have questions, as do I.”

 _‘Oh, I have questions, like how do I get back to MY home,’_ he thought to himself. “[What’s going on here? This is nothing like the Jasper I know,]” Bee beeped as he slowly stood from the berth.

“Follow me.” Without waiting for a response, the dark Prime began walking and with no other choice, the scout followed. Everything seemed so similar but there were little differences that made it obvious that this was not the home away from Cybertron. The containers housing the broken, even shattered, remains of Vehicons, Eradicons, those that bore the Decepticon insignia on their permanently offlined frames were one such indicators. The larger mech stopped when he realized his guest had stopped before one such container and returned to him. “Beautiful, is it not? Arcee is most proud of this one, I had a difficult time convincing her it would be best if we kept this one here for others to admire.”

Inside the cylinder tube of some sort of red liquid was a slender femme, gold being the most dominate color scheme. It appeared that most of her spider-like appendages were either broken in half or ripped clean off, his frame covered in numerous slash marks that were done to make the bot suffer, but the most gruesome sight were the frenzied slashes in the chassis that revealed an empty spark chamber. Bee felt a strong urge to purge and took a step back. “[W-where’s her helm?]” he asked, not wanting to know the answer.

“Where else? Arcee keeps the helms of her trophies in her berthroom to be admired whenever she chooses, it was your suggestion,” Optimus said with a slight shrug and began walking off once more. “Arachnid will never bother us again.”

“… [Why would you do that to them? They’re dead! What’s the point of keeping their graying and sparkless frames around like that!?]” Not even the Megatron he knew would be that cruel to keep them around like some sick trophy of war.

“They show that even the mightiest of the Decepticons cannot stand up to the might of the Autobot Imperium.” Chuckling darkly to himself Optimus turned down the long hallway, pausing before a keypad where he typed in a code. The doors opened but he gestured for the yellow scout to enter. “We can discuss more inside.”

Bumblebee was getting a very bad feeling, something in his logistics to get the frag outta there, even if he ran into this universe’s Megatron would be better than staying here, but this mech looked too much like the Optimus he had chosen to follow since he first joined the Autobots; perhaps… he could change his processor. He entered the large berthroom, noting the large berth that sat on the other side of the room, a desk that looked orderly off to the side as well as a bookshelf filled with many data pads. So busy looking around he didn’t realize the larger mech not only entered behind him, he locked the doors using his own energy signature.

“I have read data pads detailing that occurrences of alternate realities, and the scans Ratchet performed show that you are no mere clone or a surgically altered double sent in to spy on us. But, even if you were I was there when it happened,” he spoke lowly, slowly approaching him.

“[When what happened? And what do you mean alternate reality?” the Camaro asked, turning to face the dark mech but let out a nervous beep when he turned and realized he was standing much too close that he was comfortable with. Before he could pull back a servo came up and took a hold of his chin, forcing him to tilt his helm back. Bee shivered as he felt more digits come up and traced the scar that marred his neck cables, his spark pulsing heavily in his chassis.

“I never should have let you go alone… for all their claims that all life is sacred, even that of an enemy, they were quick to take you away from me,” Optimus spoke lowly, as though reliving a painful memory. “But Primus has given me back to you and I will repay him by extinguishing the spark of that Decepticon, Megatron himself, with my own servo. He will rue the day he offlined you, my GoldBug.”

Bumblebee wasn’t sure he fully understood what was going on, but he understood enough to know that this was not the Optimus Prime he admired or the dysfunctional family he would do anything to protect. No, this was not his home and these Autobots were not his family. He was prepared to tell the other mech off but his optics widen as he felt his faceplate guard being pushed back and having lip plates press into his own. Letting out a nervous squeak his parted a glossia immediately thrusted inside, servos crushing him close. Frantically he managed to push the Prime off him and take a few steps back, venting heavily and trying to will his spark to stop racing in his chassis.

“Wha-bzzt zzt zz-at??” he demanded angrily, wincing at the broken words he forced out. Although the kiss lasted barely a klik it was a klik too long. His faceplate guard immediately snapped into place and his servos came up when the Prime took a step towards him but Bee felt his optics widen when the command to release his blaster didn’t activated. “[What’s going on??]”

“You are not my GoldBug, but I would be a slagging fool for not having your weapons and comm link deactivated, and do not think of transforming. Ratchet made sure you would not be going anywhere,” he said calmly, walking towards him and making the scout back up, refusing to allow him near.

“[I am not GoldBug! My designation is Bumblebee and I want to go back to MY home! The Jasper I know and love!]”

“… you may not be my scout, but you can still join me.” Stepping forward Optimus had the smaller mech trapped when his backplates connected with the bookcase, knocking some data pads over, and grabbed his shoulders to force him to look at him. “Join me, Go-Bumblebee. Become my prized scout/sniper once more. Anything you could ever want will be yours and together we will rule the universe. What do you say?”

“[… are you glitching? No!!]” Angrily Bee smacked the servos off and rounded on the mech, angrily jabbing his digit on the broken glass of the Prime’s chassis as he exploded into a rant. “[I don’t want anything to do with you or this shattered perspective you seem so proud of! I want to go back to MY family who don’t execute prisoners of war and display them like sick trophies! I want to play video games with Raf and my human friends! I. Want. To. Go. Home! NOW!!]”

Optimus was silent, optics wide before dimming as he looked away, but before Bee could try and walk around him a large servo came up and gripped the front of his neck cables hard enough to hurt, easily lifting him in the air so his peds kicked in the air. “Oh, so unwise…” In a fit of controlled rage, the Prime dragged the still struggling scout to his berth where he slammed him down, causing him to suffer a minor crash. Seeing that he had stopped moving the larger mech quickly restrained his mech to the berthtop, latching the cuffs around his servos which forced them over his helm. “Primus saw fit to bring you back to me, and while you are not my GoldBug, I will make you mine.”

“[No-]” But anything else Bee was going to say was lost when the Prime cruelly ripped his mask guard off, tearing at some sensitive wires and leaving his faceplates bare. Despite still being stunned the scout tried to fight, to twist himself out of his restraints but there was a strange current running through them. He wanted to ask what he had done but growled when lip plates pressed into his, clamping them shut when a glossia tried forcing itself inside.

The dark Prime growled when the little Autobot continued to resist him. He had waited too long to have the yellow mech in his berth, he wasn’t going to lose this chance. Pulling back he forced the helm back and attacked the scared neck cables with bruising nips, lavishing the hidden sensors with his glossia. The smaller frame trembled under him ever so slightly but there was still some fight left in him. “You will submit to me,” he growled darkly and trailed his large servo down his side, digits pushing into tight gaps of plating to stroke at hidden wires. The frame twitched and pushed into his touch but it was jerky, still fighting against him yet that didn’t matter. Climbing onto the berth Optimus used both servos to continue touching the frame, digits pushing beneath loose plating, stroking at wires, feeling the frame heating up as cooling fans kicked on with a low hum. Despite the fighting the scout was enjoying his touch and while it would be easy to just take him he wanted him to beg for it.

 _‘D-Don’t feel! This isn’t Optimus! This isn’t good!’_ But the problem was it felt really good. His frame felt like it was becoming too hot, his sensory network was too sensitive and every caress made him want to buck into it. Tilting his helm to the side Bumblebee bit down on his bottom derma plating, refusing to let out the low moan of pleasure. He couldn’t stop his cooling fans from picking up speed or his vents from expelling the heated air running through his system, but it was becoming increasingly difficult not to enjoy this. A glossia traced at the scar that marred his voicebox, making him flinch sharply. That, had felt really good and he was mortified to realize that he wanted to feel more.

“Say you’ll join me, give yourself to me,” Optimus growled lowly into his audio, covering the small frame with his larger one, dragging his digits over the seams of the yellow pelvic armor. He smirked when the stabilizers slowly spread open, allowing him to kneel between them and grind their panels together. This time the entire frame responded with a buck, tugging at the cuffs and a staticky moan. “Is that a yes?”

“Zzzt-F-F-Frag o-brzzt-off,” Bee moaned lowly, optics offlined but not he was fighting himself from bucking into the heavy and hot frame above him.

“… so be it.” He had never been a patient mech, he was so dissatisfied with his position at the Great Cybertronian Achieves when he was formally known as Optronix, scheming and back-stabbing others to get to the top, this time was no different. Pulling back he forced his panel to open and smirked as his digits rubbed at the lubricant flowing from the mech folds of an untouched valve. Once more the frame jerked and bucked into his touch and a sharp moan filled with static was heard. “Enjoying this? Then perhaps you’ll enjoy this more.” Dark, thick digits continued tracing the folds, awakening nodes and sending currents of pleasure to race through the scout’s sensory network, he slowly pushed a digit in and grunted at the strength of the valve. It was so strong, he was having a difficult time pulling his digit out!

There was a slight discomfort at first but it was quickly forgotten as Bee’s hips began pushing and bucking against that single digit. He gave up trying to keep quiet, his broken cries and moans filling the room; he let out a pitiful whine as he tugged at the cuffs but his servos were still restricted and the most he could do with his stabilizers was spread them. Feeling another digit push in the scout couldn’t help but let out another moan, hips bucking up, trembling as more sensors were stroked and rubbed. _‘N-No! I shouldn’t be enjoying this! Everything feels too-too much! Ooh Primus!’_ The digits spread wide, opening him up and he felt his faceplates heat up at the feel of lubricant dripping freely.

“Such a delicious site, and yet you still fight me,” the Prime purred darkly. Using his digits, he kept the slick folds wide open, biolights blinking at him, but he was greedy for more. Never looking away he moved down the berth, settling himself between those lean stabilizers, and brought his faceplates close enough to lap at the slickness. The taste was finer than any oil cake, but the sweet icing was the sharp sequel of pleasure. Removing his digits, he was quick to press in close and pushed his glossia into the wet valve at deeply as he could, eagerly tasting and swallowing as much of the sweet treat as he could. _‘My scout. I will never let you go,’_ Optimus thought to himself as he lifted the hips up, his own vents expelling heated air and his cooling fans roaring in lust. His spike was ready to snap his cod piece off but he held back, bidding his time.

The trapped scout wondered who the slag was making all that noise, making it impossible to process any data before he realized with a shock that it was him making those obscene sounds. He was on the verge of begging for more, to be fragged like frame was pinging him but he refused to give in. He had given up on biting down on his lip plates, faintly tasting the energon where he had bitten through the fragile protoform. His peds kicked out as much as they could against the berthtop, either to kick the Prime away or pull him closer he wasn’t sure, but he did let out another low groan as digits ghosted along the seams of his cod pieces, tracing patterns that would have been almost ticklish but with his sensors on high he couldn’t help it as the protective plate slid back and his spike fully pressurized into the air. He whimpered as the mouth slowly pulled back from his valve, hips bucking, causing his spike to bob in the air, drops of transfluid dripping down the sides. For a moment all he could do was wither on the berthtop, hips thrusting into the air, valve clenching on nothing, pulling at his restraints but it was no use. His optics slowly onlined in time to watch the dark mech impersonating his Prime lean over him, not quite enough to touch him but clearly enjoying the show he was putting on. As hard as Bumblebee tried to fight it, he could feel his resolve fading away.

“… ple-krzzt-e…” Bee said so softly he had to adjust his own audios to hear.

“Did you say something, my sweet scout?” Optimus asked in a sickening sweet and smug tone.

The urge to curse at him was strong but the spike of lust wreaking havoc on his system was stronger still. “Pl… ple-ase…” he repeated slowly, bucking his hips up as much as he could, moaning lowly as his fluids oozed down and into the seams of his plating.

The scratched blast mask snapped back with an audible click, revealing very similar faceplates the yellow mech was used to, but this one was marred by scars that the mask hid, including one that started down a cheek ridge to the corner of the mouth, over the bottom lip plate and ended just short of the chin. It was smooth so the scout never noticed when he had first kissed him but leaning down Optimus dragged his servo down the brightly colored chassis, stroked the trembling midsection, and ever so slowly traced a digit down the length of the leaking spike, tracing the line of glowing biolights. “Is this what you wanted?”

“N-Ngh!!” Not by a long shot but he was so starved for any sort of touch Bumblebee could only jerk and buck his hips, silently begging for more. The single digit continued to trace the pressurized cable, tracing the biolights and the base of his housing. But still it wasn’t enough and he tugged at his restraints harder than before, ignoring the pain and stress he was putting his hinged joints through. “More-bzzzt… ne-krrt more!” he gasped, his system screaming for some sort of relief before he combusted.

“More, hmm?” It was a joy to see the Camaro so greedy for his touch, and once more the dark Prime’s impatient was rearing its ugly helm. Slowly wrapping his servo around the spike, he gave it a firm but slow stroke, digging the tips of his digits into a glowing line of lights and roughly pressed one digit against the opening at the tip, halting the flow of transfluid. Watching his guest squirm, whining and withering beneath him, Optimus knelt between the still bound stabilizers, forcing them open as wide as they could and pressed his barely closed cod piece against the very slick valve. Oh, the leader of the Autobots could still taste the oily fluids, the way the internal cables tightened around his glossia, the way the frame would tense and push into him for more every time he licked at the sensitive nodes. Getting an idea, he removed his servo from the spike and making sure the Autobot scout was watching up, lifted his servo up and licked the transfluid clean. “Still so good… was this what you wanted?” he taunted.

It he could the misplaced bot would have screamed so loud, cursed at his “host” so much, he knew for certain he would have blown out his own voicebox. Instead all he could do was whine and moan in desperation, hugging at the narrow hips with his knee joints, trying to bring him in close. The prime allowed him but only because he would start to slowly grid into him, setting his engines to rumble which caused the vibrations to flow from his frame and into his own. “Op-ti-mus…!” he cried out, static making his vocalizer cackle his optics widen and his spinal strut arched to the point of snapping in half when a digit moved down to his anterior node which was so swollen and sensitive, all it took was a teasing touch and he found himself overloading from both ends. Or, tries to anyway.

Optimus was taken back when the valve pulsed and shuddered, a hot rush of lubricant spilling out, coating his cod piece and seeping into the seams, it was enough to make him overload but he reached out and tightly wrapped his other servo over the spike, just barely keeping it from unleashing a heavy rush of transfluid by once more plugging the tip with his digit. He smirked at the squeal of pain/pleasure Bee let out and leaned over him, his crimson optics glowing brightly. “Or… was this, what you wanted?” he grunted and began to not only roughly rub and prob the tip of the trapped spike, refusing to let go, but his other servo came down and began to roughly stroke and rub at the swollen node, enjoying the slick feeling of the valve pushing and rubbing against his cod piece, coating the both of their pelvic armor and the berth with his lubricant.

Bee heard a human saying once, that there was no such thing as too much as a good thing. Well not only was this a very good thing going on, if he didn’t get some proper relief he was going to die from it! His spark was pulsing so strongly in his chassis, he was amazed it hadn’t already combusted within the chamber itself. He could hear this dark version of Optimus asking him what he wanted and tried to say something, anything, but all he could do was cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain, entire frame trembling as another overload was wrung out of him. Letting out a pitiful whimper he fell back onto the stained berth; even panting was doing little to alleviate the continuous heat in his system but it didn’t stop him from trying. Looking at the cruel monster above him he finally gave him the answer he was seeking for.

“… pl… ease… f… frag me…”

Optimus smirked and leaned over the yellow mech, grabbing his hips with both servos to stop the grinding and allowed their lip plates to brush against one another. “Does that mean you swear your allegiance to me, to fight only for me and our Autobot cause? It would mean forgetting about everything you used to know, and to obey every order I give you no matter what.” A dark thought filtered through his processor and he smirked, staring into large, bright blue optics. “That means, if I want to frag you in the middle of our base in front of everybot else, you will present yourself to me with your panel open and valve dripping. Do you agree, my Goldbug?”

Bumblebee felt any respect or pride he had left shattered as he nodded, forcing a weak and staticky “yes” before his derma were caught in a hard and brutal kiss. He didn’t fight it as a glossia forced its way inside, but found himself kissing the Prime back, barely registering that his peds had been release from their restraints only for servos to grip him behind his thighs and push them towards his chassis. Bee gasped as the kiss was broken and tried to ask what he was doing only to cry out, throwing his helm back as that same scarred mouth none-too-gently sucked at his scarred neck cables.

Using his larger frame to keep one of the stabilizers in place, Optimus allowed his cod piece to pull back with a snap and let out a vibrating groan as his spike pressurized directly into the eager valve, roughly pushing the other stabilizer down so he could push in as deeply as he could. His valve felt so tight, hot and wet, lubricant coating more than enough of his spike, and the staticky scream the mech let out was like music to him. Slowly he pulled out, hearing the scout let out a whimper then roughly pushed back in, making him arch and push into him. He intended to savor the moment, to relish in having his little Bug back with him, but he was so turned on with his torturous foreplay he couldn’t help but roughly slam his spike in and out. He growled in frustration when his own overload snuck up on him, pumping the valve and tank within the scout full of transfluid, he bit down on the scarred protoform hard enough to draw energon.

The combination of pleasure and pain was too much and poor Bumblebee overload with yet another cry, frame trembling hard enough to rattle his plating. He felt a hot sticky mess of transfluids between their grinding frames and felt as his spike pulled back into its housing, but even as his HUD filled with warnings of low everything, he could only to look up at the mech who only looked like his beloved Prime. He arched his spinal strut as he went back to fragging him hard and fast, his valve clamping down on him whether to push him out or keep him in made him want to cry in distress. He was dimly aware of a servo stroking the side of his helm, digit stroking his bottom lip plates and burning red optics looking down at him.

“You’re finally come back to my, my golden Bug… and I am never, letting you go,” Prime growled lowly. Once he was done branding this mech on the inside as a sign that he belonged to him, he was going to correct the insignia and show everybot where his true loyalty lie.

 **Author’s Notes:** I am so sorry this took so long and I hope you enjoyed this, EmilieChan. I had a hard time trying to think of alternate colors for the bots mentioned, and I also tried to go more for a PWP since these are suppose to be smutty one-shots. I’ve lived the Shatter universe for a while, I mean it’s a great twist though some of the comics do confuse the hell outta me. But anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter! Leave a review and don’t worry, I promise to continue until all the requests are done!

_Next up:_ _Pairing: Megatron (Mental)xOptimus PrimexBumblebee (Prime)_


	14. Megatron (Mental)xOptimus PrimexBumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding himself trapped in the mind of the Autobot scout was the last thing Megatron thought could happen, but until he can find a way back to his original body he may as well have some fun with him.

**Disclaimer:** Transformers: Prime and everything related belongs to the rightful company Hasbro. I am in no way shape or form making money off this.

**Author’s Notes:** Finding himself trapped in the mind of the Autobot scout was the last thing Megatron thought could happen, but until he can find a way back to his original body he may as well have some fun with him.

Title: Mind Games

Pairing: Megatron (Mental)xOptimus PrimexBumblebee (Prime)

Request: Sakiporkbun (AO3)

Never had Megatron expected this to happen, finding himself trapped within the mind of an Autobot, but he realized he had underestimated them. And the only reason he had come to him was for the cure for the cosmic plague, and, of course, the opportunity to defeat Optimus Prime with his own two servos!

_“But first, I must find a way to my own frame!”_ he snarled to himself.

Bumblebee let out a low groan, his servo coming up to hold his helm. Ever since Arcee pulled the cortical patch out and they escaped Nemesis, he had been feeling a bit off. He knew he should go see Ratchet but with Optimus still recovering from the plague he felt that he could wait.

“[We almost lost him… I almost lost him,]” he beeped to himself. Moving slowly, he went over to his berth and sat down. Ever since he had signed up with the Autobots he had come to see the Prime as not only his leader, but he was a mech he admired and strived to become just like him. But over time his infatuations for him grew and he ended up developing what he had heard the humans refer to as a crush. The problem was, he had never told him how he felt and now realizing he had come so close to losing him-

“[No! I-I can’t tell him so I may as well forget about it!]” Huffing to himself Bee laid back on his berth, venting deeply.

_“So, the scout has feeling for Prime himself but he is too scared to tell him?”_ The warlord didn’t know whether to laugh or sneer at the mention. Feelings had no room in times of war, but he would be blind if he did not notice an attractive frame regardless of type. However, he still needed to figure out a way back to his warship before his glitch of a SIC did something to ruin everything he had accomplished! But as he thought about it he began to wonder, if he was trapped in this mech’s frame, could he control it?

Concentrating he reached out and felt a smirk forming on his lip plates as a servo came up, digits curling into a fist. It was lowered but the warlord moved on and found he did have more control over the scout than he had anticipated. Getting up the mech walked over to where a large mirror hung. Autobot blue optics stared back at him via the reflection, but a faint image of Decepticon red began gazing back at the scout, the all-too familiar image of the warlord himself staring back, sharp denta pulled back into a cruel smirk-

Letting out a whirl of fear Bumblebee stumbled back from his mirror, servos raised up to fight but his own reflection was staring back at him. Cautiously he approached the mirror once more but there was no sign of the warlord. “[Why am I seeing Megatron of all bots?]” he asked himself. Was it a side effect of the cortical patch? Shaking his helm, he once more retreated to his berth and laid down, trying not to think about it and tuned into one of the radio stations he and Raf enjoyed listening to. Soon music began to fill his audios and he allowed his optics to offline, placing one of his servos behind his helm and the other resting on his stomach plating, digits tapping to the rhythm of the current song.

Mentally Megatron was growling, wishing he could offline his audios. This was such noise, but he expected no less from pathetic carbon-based lower lifeforms of this miserable planet. But the scout was busy so once more he reached out and found himself controlling the servo once more.

_“I must be careful. If I alert the Autobot to my presence, I will never be able to get back to my own frame,”_ the battle-hardened mech growled to himself. Feeling the digits flex he had to move over the scout’s frame, testing his range of motion but as digits brushed over a seam the yellow frame gave a slight shudder, a low whirl escaping the damaged vocalizer. Megatron paused but had the digits brush over the seam once more. A louder whirl followed by the frame shifting, one of his cooling fans kicking on with a low hum. _“Interesting…”_ the silver-gray mech grinned to himself. If he was going to be trapped in this foolish mech, he was going to have some—fun.

Digits continued lightly tracing the sensitive seam, teasing at the wires that lay so close to the surface but now it began tracing up and down, listening as the whirling either decreased or increased in volume. The yellow mech was still listening to the radio station, unaware of his cooling fans kicking on, or that a knot of heat was beginning to build. He twitched and spread his stabilizers wider as the servo moved lower, the tips of his digits purposely stroking the cables that joined his stabilizer to his hip. The whirling grew into a soft purr from his engine, one of his peds coming up to allow him to let his stabilizer fall to the side, backstrut arching slightly as the digits pushed even deeper into the gap.

_‘Why do I feel so warm?’_ Bumblebee thought to himself, optics onlining dimly. The heat was slowly building up, his sensory network was sending him so much data his processor was having a difficult time going through it but a spike of unfiltered pleasure made him let out a loud beeping whirl, engines revving hard enough to make him tremble. This time his optics onlined fully and he quickly sat up, shocked to see his servo was rubbing at the panel between stabilizers. “[W-What the?!]” Why on Cybertron was he doing that?? He tried to stop but he grew alarmed when he realized he had no control over it.

_“Why not sit back and enjoy it, little Autobot?”_ a dark voice purred at him.

The scout let out a startled beep, looking around for the intruder but it took him a few kliks to realize he was all alone. He made to get up from the berth but nearly fell back onto the berth as the digits pressed into the almost invisible seams and his panel snapped back. “[N-No! Stop it!]” he cried out but his servo refused to stop.

Megatron couldn’t believe it, this young mech was still sealed? It had been, well, countless vorns since he seen one but the lust running through him made it so much sweeter. He only wished it was his own servo so he could feel the pleasure himself but there was a thrill knowing he was controlling the mech’s servo, having his digits glide over the thin, silicone seal over the spike’s housing. The hips bucked up into the touch as a pleasure-filled warble escaped the mouth guard. He frowned when he saw that the servo gave a minuscule twitch but he still had most of the control.

_“Why are you fighting this?”_ he purred, letting the touch increase in pressure, feeling the tip begin to push from the other side. _“A mech such as yourself, should be able to feel the absolute thrill of self-pleasure.”_

“[N-Nooo…]” Bee weakly moaned, trying to fight off the sensations running through his system but the heat was now turning into a fire. He could only watch as the digits continued to trace the rim of the seal, feeling his spike beginning to pressurize inside. He let out another moan, trembling as he felt fluids seep out onto his berth. He wasn’t sure why, but he slowly moved his other servo down and cried out even louder as his shaking digits encountered his untouched valve. He was becoming overcharged and had begun lubricating himself.

The warlord let out a deep growl, once more wishing he was in his own frame so he could touch the little scout, to have him arching in his touch, to feel his frame heating up! He could feel the scout trying to fight for control but as far as he was concerned, he was the one in control. _“Go on, stop denying yourself this,”_ Megatron coaxed, making him rub harder at the seal.

“[B… But… I…]” He what? He was saving himself for the one he wanted to give his spark to? That there was only one bot he wanted to take his seals? That he had dreamt of the special bot he had fantasized about was the Prime himself? True, on all accounts, but it was just too good to stop! He rubbed at the slick folds, nervously tracing the slit before pushing the tip of his digit in, little by little until he had pushed the entire thing in. There was slight discomfort but as he moved it his sensors flooded his processor with pleasure. Nodes he never realized he had were activating immediately, so sensitive but begging for more attention he was now thrusting the single digit in and out, feeling more lubricant build and coat it.

_“Yesss, more! Add in another!”_ the Decepticon leader ordered, smirking as the scout withered but did so, pushing two digits into the sopping valve. He let out a growling moan as the digits began to scissor inside, activating even more sensors. He had almost forgotten about the servo he had control of only to realize it wasn’t obeying his command but it didn’t matter. His “warden” was so lost in his own pleasure the digits were almost clawing at the seal roughly, pulling at the seams to try and remove the thin silicone. _“So eager to feel your spike, aren’t you little one?”_

“[So good… s’not enough…]” Bumblebee warbled weakly, backstrut arching as he began thrusting his two digits in faster than before; with both peds on the berthtop his hips were now bucking into his touch, desperate to feel more. The other tried to remove to seal but he couldn’t pull it off so he settled on rubbing at the bulge he could feel pushing from the other side. His door wings twitched and scrapped against the thickly foamed padding, his cooling fans were all running on high, and the fire was now a raging inferno that kept demanding more. And the dark, sinister vocalizer in his processor was so familiar but he didn’t care. He let out a pained cry as the seal finally gave way and his spike pressurized directly into his servo.

Growling in appreciation and arousal Megatron forced the scout to look down and watched as the servo wrapped slender digits around the black spike, tracing a line of glowing biolights down one side, purring as transfluid began beading at the tip. If he had his own frame back he would have enjoyed the show much more but he wondered: would he have teased the Autobot himself, using his own digits to stroke and caress the valve, forcing him to produce copious amounts of lubricant? Would his other servo be stroking the stiff cable, alternating in speed to bring the mech closer to the edge only to stop, waiting for him to calm down before bringing him to the edge again? Or would he sit back and order him to pleasure himself but refuse to allow him to overload, to perform for his own amusement before he took him however his dark spark desired? So many wonderful choices but alas, he could do nothing but watch and enjoy the show.

The Camaro moaned and whimpered weakly, valve clenching on his thrusting digits, the oily lubricant making it difficult to gain any friction as his servo roughly pumped his spike. He could feel a pressure building somewhere near his tanks, warning him that he was coming closer and closer to the edge but what would happen? Was it bad? Would it hurt? Should he stop?

_‘No! Don’t—wanna stop!’_ he cried to himself louder than before, door wings trembling even harder than before, condensation coating every part of his plating. His optics were growing dimmer, but as one of his digits brushed over a particularly sensitive node it sent a very powerful burst of data over his sensors and his backstrut arched sharply, his decoder breaking up in a strangled mix of whistles and beeps. Lubricant flooded out of his valve, staining the berth and the other servo clamped tightly over his spike, trying to and failing to keep the transfluid from spurting out. The thick fluids coated his servo, his stomach plating, even some of his chassis and stabilizers. Panting heavily in an attempt to cool down he felt his spike depressurize and slid back into its housing but his valve was still throbbing, demanding—no, ordering for more. His stained servo made to slid down to the oily folds when a deep low moan that was not in his processor reached his audios. Suddenly, he was no longer alone.

The red and silvery Prime was supposed to be taking it easy under the CMO’s orders, but he felt fine. He had never experienced such pain and for a klik, he thought that he was going to join the Well of the AllSpark but his Autobots came through and found the antivirus. Arcee told him what happened and he thanked her and the others for their work, but he had yet to thank the scout who had gone beyond the call of duty.

Approaching his door, he hesitated, wondering if he should wait least he disturb the young mech, but just as he about to knock on the door he heard a sound from the other side. Was Bumblebee hurt and had not told anyone? Frowning he debated whether he should call Ratchet but what if it was serious and he couldn’t wait? Optimus knocked on the door but there was no answer. “Bumblebee? Are you in there?” Once more he heard the strange noise but he could not place it. Turning to the keypad off to the side he set it to open and watched as the door opened. It as dark within the room but it didn’t stop him from entering. The noise was louder than before and he took a few more steps inside, vaguely aware of the door closing behind him but even in the darkness he could make out a frame withering on the berth. Thinking the worse he moved closer, ready to reach out and assist but what he saw instead made him freeze.

Optimus Prime was not blind, and while the matrix chose him to lead Cybertron to a brighter future, he was still a mech. What he saw before him was arousing and easily the most enticing sight ever. He would not lie and say that bumblebee was pleasing to look at, he was young but he proved himself to be a more than capable warrior and excellent scout. He adapted so easily when they came to Earth and took his role as young Rafael’s guardian with pride. Optimus was proud of him, but seeing him withering on his berth, stabilizers spread wide as digits rapidly thrust in and out of a leaking valve, smearing the oil fluids all over, other servo roughly stroking a black spike with bright yellow biolights, making such eager sounds. He could almost taste the heat his frame was giving off and longed to lick the condensation off his plating.

_‘I… I should leave…’_ But his peds seemed welded to the floor and he could not move. The scent of the lubricant and transfluid was almost sweet and he realized with horror that his own cooling fans were kicking on. No, no he could not be getting charged watching this! Bumblebee was his scout, a highly valued team mate! And yet he looked like he was in pain, as though he could not reach an overload. He wanted to reach out and help him, to see if he tasted as sweet as he smelled but instead he felt his own panel retract and his spike had pressurized itself fully. When Been let out a warbling moan his servo came out and wrapped around his spike, stroking it firmly and steadily. He kept repeating he should not be doing this, that he should leave and come back later to make sure he was alright but he kept watching, feeling his frame tremble, his optics widen as the yellow frame suddenly arched and he let out a loud series of clicks and whirls, a rush of fluids escaping and coating both his servos. Optimus’ own servo tightly wrapped around his spike, a digit sealing the tip. The rush of his own transfluid was halted but he couldn’t help but release the deep groan that had been building, his optics taking in the way the inside of his stabilizers seemed to shine, or how the drops of transfluid spattered on the brightly colored plating, or the deep look of arousal and longing in his optics-

Scrap! He knew he should say something, apologize or just leave but he still couldn’t move!

Megatron snarled angrily, optics nearly glowing in rage. How dare Prime show himself here and now! This scout was his! _“Order to him to leave! NOW!”_ he shouted, but instead the young mech slowly pushed himself up until he was sitting, then standing a bit unsteadily on his peds. _“What are you doing?! Obey me!!”_ But the Autobot took a few steps forward and let out a low cry as he nearly fell but was caught by the taller mech. Instead of righting himself he leaned into him and reached down, wrapping his transfluid coated digits around the pressurized spike. The tyrant continued yelling at the scout but his threats fell on deaf audios.

Had Bee been thinking clearly and logically, he would be stammering an apology, that he hadn’t meant to do this and that he thought he had locked his door but all he could process was that the spike he was currently was larger than his own, longer and wider. It was also the same silvery color as his servos but he was memorized by the thick string of biolights on either side, the way they lit up but he was more interested in watch the way the transfluid began to leak from the tip.

“Bum… aah… Bumblebee…” the Prime groaned, bucking into the touch he stumbled forward and reached out, gripping the rounded shoulders he watched with bright optics as the yellow mech slowly dropped to his knees, stroking the spike with an almost curious expression. He should not be doing this, he was just taking advantage of his scout’s overcharged nature, but how long had it been since he felt the touch from another? Too long, even back when he was known as Orion Pax. He tried to get the bot to stop, to think about his actions but he watched as the mouth guard slid back, revealing the rest of the faceplates he hadn’t seen in stellar cycles. Optimus was about to ask him what he was doing but his optics grew brighter and he moaned deeply as the tip of his spike was surrounded by wet heat.

The slick, oily transfluid coated his glossia and Bumblebee let out a low moan, engine vibrating strong enough to rattle his plating. Having never done this he wasn’t sure if he was doing it right but the way Optimus was moaning, the feel of his digits flexing over his shoulder, he continued sucking at the tip. His servo stroked at the rest of the spike, tracing the biolights he would alternate his grip from just behind the tip to the base. The way his leader moaned and the subtle thrusts his hips gave meant he was enjoying it and he let out a happy moan, sucking even harder, eager to taste more.

The pressure was building up once more, even with the derma plating wrapped tightly around the tip, the glossia lapping and delicately probing the opening at the tip, the servo tracing the stripe of rapidly blinking lights, it was the best he had ever felt! He tried telling the scout this, to let him know how wonderful it felt but all he could manage were deep moans and breathless pants, trying to keep his systems from overheating. His digits dug into seams, roughly caressing wires and cables hidden underneath but the twitching door wings caught his attention. They were trembling ever so slightly, held up high on the backplates, he freed a servo and reached out to trace one of the appendages. Bee let out a startled cry and pulled off the spike only to lick at it thickly, now squeeze the base near the housing as his wing gave an excited twitch. He couldn’t voice what he was saying but it was clear he enjoyed the touch. Optimus smiled and went back to caressing the door wing, fondling it with both servos.

_‘Yes! More, touch me more!’_ the scout wanted to cry out, to beg of him but he lavished his attention on the heavily leaking spike. There was so much transfluid he was having trouble to clean it all up, feeling it coat his servo and dripping down his chin and onto his chassis but he didn’t care. His other servo had his digits buried into his valve, having worked in three digits he was scissoring them into the internal cables, setting off multiple sensor nodes. Lubricant was dripping heavily down his stabilizers, his systems begging to overload, to relieve the pressure but he denied everything. No, if he was going to overload he wanted Optimus’ glorious spike to be the one to do so, to break through his remaining seal and fill him with so much fluids! Letting out a warbling cry as the sharp sting of door wings being pinched he sealed his mouth over the spike and began bobbing his helm back and forth. He wasn’t able to take all of it in but his servo continued squeezing and stroking the base, moving in time with the thrusting hips.

Oh, merciful Primus, this was too much! He was dimly aware that he was digging his digits into the base of one of the door wings, roughly caressing the highly tuned sensors in the hinge the other cupped the back of the helm, muttering low moans of encouragement. “Yes… li-like that… B-Bee…!” he called out, a rumble cry escaping his vocalizer as his HUD gave one final warning and he overloaded into the scout’s mouth. On reflex he tightened his grip, trapping the mech where he knelt before him, grunting in intense pleasure he finally pulled back, shuddering as he felt and heard the wet popping sound his spike made as it was released from the wet suction, groaning deeply as a final spurt of transfluid shot out, hitting his scout in the faceplates.

“Bu-Bumblebee… I-must apologize!” he said quickly, dropping to a knee hinge before the other mech, tilting his faceplates up he rummaged into his subspace for something to wipe the fluids away but he couldn’t find anything so he used his digits to gently wipe it away. Before he could remove his servos though they were caught and the air seized in his vents as Bee held said servos and proceeded to lick them clean. His digits had always been sensitive, so many vorns working in the Iacon Hall of Records he not only had to handle multiple data pads but fragile items as well so he always had a light touch. It also meant he could feel every swipe of the slick glossia over the pads of his digits, lip plates sealing over seams to get at those hard to reach spots. “Bee-” He never called the scout by the nickname the others did, it wasn’t that he didn’t like it but he always carried an air of professionalism among even his family, but now… now it was just the two of them. It felt—good. Right. Perfect.

Even when Optimus called him by his full designation it always sent a thrill down his backstrut and it took all he had not to have his door wings flutter but now, even shortened he loved hearing it from his lip plates. Looking up at him he gave the servos one final lick and lifted his helm. For a klik he was afraid he had overstepped himself, that the Prime would say something about this being a mistake and then leave him alone, but nothing like that came. His optics were so bright and looking at him he could see the desire being reflected back at him. _‘Does, he want me?’_ He wanted to ask, to just say it but since he no longer had his voice box he took his servo and brought it between his stabilizers, moaning as those tapered digits gently probed his valve. _‘P-Prime!!’_ he mewled sharply and held the servo close as he began riding the digits, spreading his stabilizers wider. He saw him opening his derma plating once more, no doubt wanting to say something but instead he curled his other servo around the back of his neck cables and pulled him down, catching him off-guard with an open-mouthed kiss.

Optics widen and the large frame tense for a split astrosecond before an arm wrapped around the scout and pulled him so close their chassises grinded together, scratching paint along the way. Neither cared but both moaned deeply, glossias tangled together and engines revving hard and heavy. Prime had three of his own slightly-larger-digits scissoring the soaked valve, listening to the wet sounds as h thrust them but as he pushed them as deeply as he could the tips brushed against a seal at the very back. His scout was sealed. Some of the lusty haze was beginning to leave his processor and he made to pull back but Bumblebee refused to let him go, letting out a low whimper as he grinded his hips down. Pulling his helm back he gasped heavily, leaning away from the sweet lips but he groaned when instead Bee licked and nipped at his own neck cables.

“B-Bee… please, wait. Your seal… give it, to the one you want… one you care for,” he managed to force out. Bots used to say he was a hopeless romantic, but it was something he strongly believed it and as much as he wanted this, he didn’t want Bumblebee to hate him for this. The frantic grinding stopped, even door wings grew still; he shuddered as his servo was removed from the slickness, more than coated in so much lubricant but instead of pushing away the yellow mech interlinked their digits together, clutching it tightly as he pressed them to his chassis, right over his spark. It took Optimus a few kliks to realize what he meant and he finally turned to look at him. “… but… a-are you certain? You… would want me?”

Bumblebee slowly nodded, optics bright and focused solely on him. He took it as a good sign when his servo was squeezed back, leaning forward so their forehelms touched, feeling his spark swell but he let out a startled cry as he was lifted up only to be placed on his berth. He was puzzled but only for a moment as Optimus climbed onto the berth with him, moving between his stabilizers and catching his lip plates in a searing kiss. _‘Optimus,’_ he purred mentally and let himself relax, wrapping his stabilizers around the other mech’s waist but when he made to touch him his servos were caught and gently pinned to the berth, digits interlocking.

“Let me do this… Bumblebee,” the Prime purred deeply, smirking slightly at the way the frame beneath him trembled. Leaning in close he purposely rubbed his spike against the valve, letting their fluids mingle and enjoying the way the stabilizers tightened around him, hips bucking into him impatiently. He anted to continue teasing him, to see him get flustered but eventually even he couldn’t hold back and slowly began pushing his spike into the valve.

Both mechs let out deep, frame shuddering moans as new data flooded their systems, pleasure assaulting all their nodes and nearly overwhelming their sensory network. Despite being able to fit multiple digits inside it was still so tight the larger mech has having a bit of a difficult time to push but he waited and went about pleasuring the smaller mech beneath him. The Prime kissed and licked at the bright plating, cleaning up as much as the transfluid and condensation from earlier, murmuring how good he was. The scout would relax, allowing more of the spike in until he tensed and started all over again. It was a long process and part of him wanted to snap his mouthguard in place and beg his leader to just frag him. Eventually he could feel the spike push in but he tensed when he felt the tip come across his seal. Without needing him to say anything he nodded and lifted his hips up in acknowledgement. The red and silvery blue mech nodded and pulling back, thrust forward with enough force his spike broke through the final seal, claiming the yellow mech as his own. The valve immediately tensed around him and Bee let out a low keen of pain, struggling slightly against the servos pinning him down. That really hurt and he could feel some of the pleasure beginning to lose its touch. Gently derma pressed against the side of his faceplate, a soft murmur of his designation in his audio made him online his optics and look up at the concerned look of his lover. _‘… o… opti… mus…’_

“Bumblebee… Bee… my, lover…” Primus, that felt so good to say Optimus leaned down, kissing his lover he slowly pulled his hips back until only the tip remained then slid back in. The pace was smooth and slow, yellow hips lifting up as he pushed in then fell as he drew back, continuing to move with him. Grunting softly, he released one of his servos, dragging his down his scout’s side to stroke sensitive seams and wires but the servo moved to the backplates and fondly the highly sensitive joints of the door wings at the same time he licked and caressed the thick scar that took his scout’s vocalizer from him.

The low, keening cry was the closest sound the yellow sportscar could make without his mouthguard but he didn’t care as he arched his frame into the Prime, his freed servo reaching up to delve into gap and roughly caresses what he could. He wanted more and his lover (Primus, even in his mind it felt so good to call him that) seemed to understand that he began moving faster and harder. ‘Yes! Yes, please frag me, Optimus! I want it!’ he cried out mentally, clutching the back of the blue helm and let out a thrilling cry as the sensitive scar was nipped, adding to his pleasure. The raging inferno had returned and he knew this time there would only be one way to put it out once and for all.

_“NO!! He was to be MINE!!”_ Megatron roared angrily, forced to watch as his most hated enemy continue to frag the scout, unable to look away or to keep from hearing the way he grunted with each thrust or the way the scout would arch into him. No, it would be so much easier if he could but instead he focused in on the sounds the scout made, the way he keened and thrilled in pleasure, the wet suction sounds his valve made as the spike pushed its way in and out. It would be so easy to just imagine it was his designation he was trying to cry out but he couldn’t even initiate self-facing on himself! Now he was even more determined to get back to his own mind, his own frame and once he was back he was going to personally capture the Autobot scout and he was going to going to show him how a real mech fragged somebot. _“Yes… your precious scout will be mine, Optimus Prime. And once I have claimed him as my own I will hunt you down and rip the Matrix out of your sparkles frame! Everything you have taken from me will be mine!!”_

The pleasure was mounting, warnings popping up in HUDs, cooling fans running themselves ragged in a vain attempt to cool down the heated frames but the two mechs didn’t care. The scout whimpered as loudly as he could, digging his digits into the back of the servo his optics brighten so much they nearly appeared white and he let out an almost shrill keen of pleasure as his systems couldn’t take it anymore and he overloaded so hard it tore through his entire frame like the most powerful charge he had ever experienced.

The crushing grip of the valve was so intense and caught the leader of the Autobots completely off-guard, he cried out the scout’s designation as his own systems gave in and he emptied every drop of transfluid into the willing frame beneath him. The tight seal their interface equipment made was so tight, the pressure of their combined fluids tried pushing him out but it did allow his hips to thrust shallowly, further stimulating over-worked nodes. Optimus nearly collapsed atop the smaller bot but managed to catch him, vents expelling as much heated air as they could, armor pinging as it finally began to cool down. It felt like over an orbital cycle (it has been almost a full joor) when he lifted himself up and slowly, oh so slowly, reached down to untangle the stabilizers from around his waist. Bee let out a protesting sound but vented softly as he sat up. “Relax…” he murmured, stroking the slender hips, smiling down he waited and as soon as the scout inhaled he quickly withdrew. The wet suction of his spike pulling free was abnormally loud yet it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard; his spike slowly withdrew into its housing but bright blue optics watched as the valve lay bared before him, gaping wide from where he had pulled himself free, a rush of their mixed fluids dripping free that just begged to be licked clean. He reached out to gently touch the swollen folds, murmuring an apology when Bee jerked, hissing softly in obvious discomfort. “I’m sorry. Wait here.”

_‘Where would I go?’_ But Bumblebee vented softly as he lay back on his berth, letting his optics offline as he stretched his servos over his helm. His door wings twitched beneath him, obviously getting a bit cramped but he could deal with them later. He heard Optimus moving around his room and wondering what he was looking for until he felt a warm servo gently stroke one of his stabilizers, stroking it he felt it slid underneath and lifted it up. His optics onlined dimly and looking down he saw a cleaning cloth in the Prime’s other servo. Smiling even more he let out a purring moan as he was cleaned, the soft cloth and touch soothing even as it cleaned the excess fluids from his still very sensitive folds. Once everything was cleaned up, including his servos, his panel slid close and he watched as he cleaned himself up. He wanted to return the favor but a warning appeared in his HUD about very low energy reserves. He let out an annoyed groan at that.

Hearing the annoyed sound, the taller mech smiled as he finished cleaning himself up and allowed his panel to slid close. Stowing the used cloth into his subspace he sat next to his lover and leaned over him. “Bumblebee… I am honored, you allowed me to take your seal… and I am grateful to you…” Slowly he reached out and taking his servo in his own smiled, lifting it up to his chassis where he pressed it over the area where his spark lay hidden away. “You saved me, even at the cost of your own deactivation. Thank you. Still holding his servo, he leaned down and kissed him softly.

Bee smiled as he kissed him back, wishing he could tell him he loved him but with his own vocalizer. Perhaps… one day he could. That was the last thing he remembered as his systems began shutting his system down to conserve what little energy reserves he had remaining.

Optimus slowly pulled back and took a klik or two to watch his scout recharging. He looked so peaceful and as much as he wanted to join him he had other things to attend to. Laying his servo on his chassis he made sure there was nothing amiss and left, but not before casting the slumbering mech one final look. Little did either of them know that a certain warlord was determined to tear them apart and claim what he believed had been wrongfully stolen from him.

Author’s Notes: This, this was fun! And yes, it was fun to tease Megatron but it was also fun to do another Optimus and Bumblebee. What can I say, I really like this pairing (though others are starting to grow on me). Sakiporkbun, I really hope you enjoyed this!

Now, I would like to say how sorry I am that it took this long for me to u[date this story but hitting a mental block was just the pits! So, instead of making you all wait ‘til tomorrow I decided to post these chapters up tonight. I work tomorrow but I’m not sure when I’ll be getting out. Also, JazzTheTiger, I am not quite done with your quest but I’m getting there little by little! Promise!

To everyone else, thanks for putting up with me and I hope you continue to enjoy the chapters. And remember, I’m still open to requests :)

_Next up:  BumblebeexOptimus Prime (Prime/RID verse)_


	15. AutobotsxBumblebee (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bee wasn’t sure what happened, and maybe he did have too much high-grade, and maybe he lost his seals to the jettwins, but why was he looking at his team in a different light? When did the Elite Guard start looking so good? This scout is on a mission to find out by taking on the mechs one at a time.

**Disclaimer:** Transformers: Animated and everything related belongs to the rightful company Hasbro. I am in no way shape or form making money off this.

**Author’s Notes:** Bee wasn’t sure what happened, and maybe he did have too much high-grade, and maybe he lost his seals to the jettwins, but why was he looking at his team in a different light? When did the Elite Guard start looking so good? This scout is on a mission to find out by taking on the mechs one at a time.

Title: Slutty Bee (Part 2)

Pairing: AutobotsxBumblebee (Animated)

Requested: JazzTheTiger (AO3)

Bumblebee was not a medic, he never took a class since he never saw a need (his self-repair was enough and even when it wasn’t, there was the grumpy medic) but looking at his housing he wished he had learned something. Frowning he took up the tool once more; a few joors earlier, after putting Bulkhead to bed, Bee tried to deal with his trapped spike stuck in its own housing by pushing it back in but he quickly had to stop when he realized he was doing more harm than good.

_‘I-I could try and relieve it,’_ he thought and stroked at the tip, hoping if he managed to depressurize it the spike would slide back in but that idea was quickly shot down when it pressurized even more and was making it even more painful. The rim of his spike’s housing was so dented he knew if he could push it out he might be able to relieve the pressure, but not with his digits. That’s when he found a crowbar in his berthroom amid a pile of junk he had found and kept during one of his many trips speeding through New Detroit.

_‘Sari said humans use this to pry stuff open, maybe I can do the same.’_ It took several kliks to figure out how to hold it then another several how to use it but it seemed to take joors to slip the end of it beneath one of the dents and push on the other side. He had to stop when his systems registered even more pain, the kind that made him want to give up and go see Ratchet but the idea of explaining what happened to the old mech made him continue. He was not going to explain what happened! _‘I—can—fix—this!!’_ he said to himself, pushing on the end of the crowbar harder he was rewarded with a loud ping as the dent popped out just enough for his spike to pressurize fully. Sighing in relief Bee dropped the crowbar and began stroking his stiff cable, barely remembering to keep quiet as the oh-so-familiar charge rapidly build. Immediately he remembered his time with Jetstorm and Jetfire, then the impromptu training session with Prowl and Jazz, and now with Bulkhead and how good it had all felt. No, not good, incredible!

Biting down on his bottom lip plate the scout lay back on his berth, bringing his peds up he lifted his hips into the air as his other servo reached down to his valve and, ignoring the sting of pain, rapidly began thrusting his digits in and out. He keened softly as he gave into the pleasure and stimulated himself, arching his backstrut on the berth, wanting nothing more than to feel a spike in place of his digits, a hot mouth engulfing his spike, he wanted somebot to frag him until he crashed! His optics shot open the moment he felt the electrical charge from his digits dancing over his sensitive nodes, his derma opened wide to scream his pleasure but his vocalizer seized up as he rode out his overload from both ends, coating his servos in both lubricant and transfluid. He whimpered as he continued with the self-pleasure, even as warnings popped up in his HUD, hips bucking weakly into his servos he managed to work himself into another overload before he couldn’t take it anymore and he found himself slipping into emergency stasis. When his optics onlined much later he found himself laying on an unfamiliar berth and a worried medic leaning over him. He blinked, looking around he found himself in the med bay.

“Ratchet? How’d… I get here?” he asked as he tried sitting up.

“No you don’t,” he said as he placed a servo on his chassis, forcing him to lay still. The older mech looked at the monitors he was hooked up to, reading the results. “Looks like your energy level is back up and your self-repair is nearly done with your interface components.”

Bee blinked and try as hard as he could was not able to stop the heat entering his faceplates. “I-”

“Don’t bother, Bulkhead told me everything.” Stepping away the white and red medic moved to his work table, picking up a data pad to update the medical report. “Can’t say I haven’t seen it before, it happens to young mechs like you two, but I haven’t seen damage as bad as yours before.”

“D-Damage?” Despite being told to lay down the mini bot lifted himself up just enough to lean back on his servos and looked down at himself. There were several cables plugged into him, no doubt connected to the monitors, dents and scratches gone but the heat in his cheek ridges rose when he saw that his interface panel was open leaving his array completely bared. He also found he couldn’t close it but he saw that his spike housing was no longer dented or pushed inward. He wanted to reach out to touch it, to see if it was real but quickly pulled his servo back when Ratchet walked back to his side, giving him a “look”. With a weary sigh Bumblebee laid back down but looked away from the CMO. His optics shuddered as he realized when he had fallen into stasis he had been in his berthroom, so how did he get here to the medbay? “Is, Bulkhead the one who brought me here?”

“Yeah, the big lug commed me that you weren’t waking up and before I could go see what was wrong he barged in here carrying you in his servos,” Ratchet answered simply. Still looking at the data pad he moved over to his side and looked down at him. “Bumblebee… I want you to be honest with me. Did-”

“Bulkhead didn’t do anything! I-I’m the one who started it,” Bee immediately interrupted, his servos clenched into tight fists. “If there’s anyone to blame it’s me, and I’ll accept whatever punishment there is but leave Bulkhead outta this.”

“Calm down, kid. I have to ask considering your damage.” But the scout refused to look at him and Ratchet vented heavily before returning his attention back to the data pad. There was a strange line of code that he swore he had just seen but despite his repeated scans it wasn’t showing up anymore. Mumbling under his vents Ratchet set the pad down and moved to the end of the berth where he pulled out a pair of lifts for his patient to rest his peds on. “I need you to move down and put your peds up.”

“Fine.” Without looking down Bumblebee did as ordered, being mindful of the cables still plugged into him he finally looked down when he felt Ratchet lift one of his stabilizers up then did the same to the other. “What are you doing?” he asked and was reminded that his panel was still open and with his peds up and stabilizers spread open he was pretty much bared for the medic (and any bot else who decided to enter the medbay).

“I’m going to check your valve and see if your self-repair was able to fix the damage I saw,” the CMO explained as he pulled his stool over and leaned down to examine the folds. They were healing nicely but his main concerns were the internal injuries he had seen earlier. “What in the Pitt did you do to yourself, anyway?” he asked as he pulled back, pulling a small tray over where he had some tools waiting to be used.

“What are you talking about?” the scout murmured, forcing himself to relax but it was difficult to do so. His stabilizers twitched as he tried closing them once more but he jumped and nearly bolted off said berth when he felt a servo on the inside of his stabilizer. “Hey!”

“Stop moving,” Ratchet ordered gruffly as he opened the stabilizers once more. “Just like I said. I don’t know what you two did, but not only did you tear the opening of your valve, some of your nodes were damaged with what looked like some heavy ‘facing. On top of that I saw electrical burns inside and even on your spike.” He looked down at the smaller mech, an optic ridge raised in question.

“… I got carried away,” Bumblebee said after a heavy klik of silence even as he lifted his servos up to rub at his faceplates. “Wouldn’t my self-repair have fixed—hey!!” He couldn’t help but jerk and made to move away from the light touch had a servo not clamp down on his stabilizer once more.

“I said stop moving and I meant it,” Ratchet growled and waited a few kliks before releasing the stabilizer. “Your self-repair might have been able to take care of it, but it would take a great deal of time. And it’s not like you have something I haven’t seen before.” Once more he reached out with two of his digits covered in medical grade lubricant and having them heated up, went back to carefully applying said lubricant to the rim of the valve. “Just relax, I need to spread the lubricant inside using my digits,” he explained and carefully, slowly, pushed two of them past the mesh folds.

Even being warned and having taken a few spikes (repeatedly) Bumblebee couldn’t help but shift slightly on the berth, biting back a low moan. The lubricant was warm (from the heated digits) but there was a slight sting as the digits carefully pushed completely inside, stroking the walls and rubbing over some of his still very sensitive nodes. He covered his optics with one of his arms, clenching his denta together so tightly it hurt but it did nothing to halt the small flicker of pleasure he was feeling.

_‘No… not now… please, not now,’_ he begged as he fought back the rising heat.

Scanners were picking up an elevated temperature but the CMO continued, knowing that this was natural. He carefully scissored his digits in the valve, taking note of the tear that he had repaired but he noted that the smaller frame would twitch when he brushed over some of the nodes. “Do you feel any discomfort?”

“… n-no…” Discomfort he could handle, welcome even, right now what he was feeling was worse and yet he wanted more. Bee let out a long vent of air as the digits were removed and took a moment to calm his system down, he didn’t hear the medic say something about using a tool before he felt something slick and cold and made of metal slowly pushing into his valve then opening him up as wide as it could without hurting him. This time he couldn’t help the small cry he let out and reached down to cover his spike housing, resisting the urge to release the latches.

“Keep cycling air, kid. I just need to get a good look at your sensor nodes,” Ratchet explained, stroking a tense stabilizer he frowned when he felt it tremble under his touch and slowly pulled back. He made sure the tool in question wasn’t hurting him and that his tear hadn’t opened before activating a mini light and leaning in close, looked inside. Some of the nodes were still bruised, which no doubt explained the sensitivity his patient still had but the ones that had been burned looked almost completely healed with no sign of scarring. He had been worried about that as it would make future interfacing downright painful. “Everything looks good so far, but I’m going to apply some salve to help it repair faster.” He picked up a small container but before he could take some onto his digits he looked at the scout on the berth. “Unless… you want to do it yourself?”

Bee wasn’t sure he had heard him correctly but looking at him from under his arm he gave a slow nod. Ratchet carefully removed the tool that kept his valve open (something the scout did not enjoy having to begin with) and helped him remove his peds from the lifts so it wouldn’t be as uncomfortable then handed him the small container of a very pale blue salve. Sitting up Bumblebee dipped his digits inside, making sure he had plenty before reaching down to gently push his digits inside. He hissed slightly as he touched some of the bruised nodes but as he began to rub the salve into them he could feel a tingle of relief flowing through him. Leaning back on his servo he brought one of his peds up so it was perched on the edge of the berth and continued to spread the salve inside until he pulled his digits out and applied more. The flicker of heat was rapidly growing once more, his cooling fans ready to kick on at a moment’s notice, he didn’t even realize he was letting out soft moans of pleasure.

Ratchet should not be staring at his younger comrade like this. He should not be thinking how arousing he looked with his digits scissoring his valve. He should not be acting like some slagging glitch who enjoyed overloading to another mech self-facing! Grabbing the datapad the CMO quickly moved to the side, trying to forget what he had just seen but his processor refused to delete the image, and the soft moans were not helping one little bit.

_‘T-This is normal. Long as he’s not in pain it means the treatment is working,’_ he told himself. And it was true, if Bumblebee was in pain then the moment he touched him even with the medical grade lubricant would have had him bolting from the berth in an astrosecond. But he had been a medic far too long so he control his own frame despite how arousing the sight had been. “U-Use as much salve as you need, kid. I can make more but that should be enough for now,” he said without looking back as he tried to focus on anything except on what was going on behind him.

“Ahh… uh huh,” the minibot moaned softly, now thrusting three digits into his valve he could feel his own lubricant building, making the internal cables slicker. He purposely rubbed against the nodes, being mindful not to caress too hard but the pleasure was quickly mounting. “Can… can I use it, on my spike?” he asked even as he gave the command to have the latches come undone, watching as it rapidly pressurized.

“Your spi—O-Oh yeah, you can use it there, too,” he said. Looking over the data pad the medic reread his notes that there had been damage to the appendage as well and it had taken a bit of time to repair the housing for the spike to successfully retreat inside. He quickly set it down before his processor tried to bring up images of him touching it, stroking it, tending to it when his scanners picked up elevated temperature and the sound of systems running harder than they should be. “Kid, is somethin-” He turned and froze at the sight before him. Despite all his many vorns as a chief medical officer during the war, nothing could have prepared him for the sight that lay before him.

Bumblebee was reclining back on the berth, both of his peds pulled up and stabilizers spread wide, digits of one servo thrusting in and out of a quivering valve, lubricant dripping onto the berth. The other servo was wrapped around a fully pressurized spike, remains of the pale blue salve mixing with the silvery transfluid as it was stroked firmly. With both peds on the berth hips rose and fell in movement with the servos. The dark faceplates were brightly flushed with energon racing through his cables, optics glowing intensely even as they looked up at the medic he didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down. Instead the minibot let out a mix of a deep moan/purr that seemed to go straight to the older mech’s own interface equipment.

“Ratch-et… I, I need more…” he moaned softly, the empty container having fallen to the floor without either of them realizing, it was forgotten as he used the digits in his valve to spread himself open, allowing more lubricant to spill freely.

“Bu-Bumbleb-bee… stop that! You, you don’t know what you’re doing,” the medic tried to tell him and made the mistake of coming towards him, ready to strap him to the berth if he had to in order to get him to stop but when he reached down to grab the yellow servo, his servo his own was caught and he found his own digits being pushed into the slick heat. Ratchet froze, the highly tuned sensors in his digits immediately taking in the supple feel of his valve, the way the cables clutched around him, the wet heat trying to draw him deeper in; he was also unprepared for the scout to sit up and kiss him. “K-Kid-”

“Not a kid,” the scout murmured against his derma plating and proved it as he used all the skills he had learned from his servoful of partners to make him see the truth. It was tense for a few kliks, having him frozen but soon the medic was kissing him back, flicking his glossia against his own and gently scissoring the digits buried deeply inside. Bumblebee would rather have them slamming away at him, to be screaming the medic’s designation but the fact that he was being careful with his still healing injuries made him whimper softly in want. He clutched at his spike harder, pushed his hips into the digits, desperate for an overload he let out a whimper of desperation as the old mech pulled back, pushing at his chassis until he was laying back on the berth. “R-Ratch-”

“I know, kid. Already going to the Pitt for this…” he murmured, having him roll over onto his chassis he trailed his slick digits down over his patient’s brightly colored aft and once more gently thrust inside, scissoring his slick valve, feeling the lubricant spilling free. Ratchet was literally at war with himself, knowing he should stop and send the scout to his room but there was something about him that made him want to ‘face him hard and fast, to hear him call out his designation. It didn’t help the way the minibot would squirm and push against him, needy whimpers spilling freely. _‘I should stop, I_ have _to stop, before things get any worse,’_ the CMO told himself and removed his digits but watched the way lubricant continued dripping out, joining the puddle of fluids on the berth’s surface from where Bumblebee was still stroking at his spike, his cries now louder than before, almost desperate.

“Oh Pr-Primus… Ratchet, pleaassse!” the minibot whimpered, hips shaking. Those digits had felt so good, the way they pushed and stroked his nodes, no pain whatsoever, nothing except incredible pleasure. Slowly he brought his own yellow servo beneath him to lift his chassis up and looked back at the medic over his shoulder, fully prepared to beg him to continue but he watched as the medic was slowly licking his digits clean, letting out a low moan of pleasure. Bumblebee let out a needy whine of pleasure, their optics meeting he rolled back onto his backplates but he cried out in surprise as he was pulled completely off the berth and into the medic’s servos. He wanted to ask what he was doing but Ratchet kissed him, glossia plunging into his mouth, groaning deeply. Bee whimpered into the kiss and wrapped his stabilizers around him, slipping his own glossia into his mouth, still able to taste the transfluid he had licked clean. The scout trembled in pleasure as those talented servos moved to his aft, digging into seams he was vaguely aware that they were moving or a door opening then closing until he was pressed into it. Those same warm servos lifted him up and his needy whimpers turned into deep moans of pleasure as a fully pressurized spike pushed its way inside. The scout rolled his hips, nodes lighting up one by one the deeper it slid in, closing around him. It didn’t have the same width as Bulkhead and while it wasn’t as long as the ninjas’ it was still able to rub against his nodes, and his muffled cries of pleasure grew the deeper he sank down until it was completely sheathed inside. The kiss broke apart, a strand of oral fluids connecting them for a few blessed astroseconds before breaking.

“You… were sealed before, I read your medical report,” the older mech spoke up quietly, using his greater mass to pin the scout to the locked door, sliding his larger servos along his sides, allowing his digits to glide over the gentle curves. “So, who took it?”

“Ra-Ratch… et… pleaasssee…” Why was he choosing now to ask him such a private question? He knew he wanted him, his spike felt so good buried in his valve but when he didn’t start moving Bee decided to initiate things by rolling his hips, tightening his stabilizers around his waist but cried out in frustration as the larger hips pressed his into the door with more pressure, keeping him from moving. Wickedly talented servos slid up and not only did they tease at some of his more sensitive seams they removed his clutching servos and pinned them above his helm. The yellow speedster was trapped, unable to move and pinned to a door by an older mech he (mildly) respected with his very stiff spike. The idea of being trapped like this was such a turn on his charge increased even more, increasing his core temperature and making his systems rev in obvious arousal.

“Tell me about the mechs you ‘faced, Bee,” the CMO ordered lowly, refusing to look away as he pinned both yellow servos under his larger red/white one, the other servo sliding down to trace the fading denta marks on the neck cables he had noted in his earlier examination. He smirked at the pleasing whimper the minibot let out but didn’t stop the caress. “I want to know every last, explicit, fragging detail.”

“W… why…” the minibot panted, tilting his helm to the side and trembling as the digits continued rubbing over the marks, causing a spike of pleasure to race down his spinal strut to his spike and interface equipment, a rush of hot fluids running down his plating. He still couldn’t move but it didn’t stop him from trying, arching into the other mech only to cry out in loss when he felt the spike slowly pull out but the servo that was stroking his bite mark quickly moved to keep his hip in place. “S-Slagger!”

“Watch it, or I can leave you strapped to my berth and wait until you tell me what I want to know,” the red and white mech continued in his low, gruff vocalizer. “And I need to know, for—medical purposes.” It was taking all his training and processing power not to frag the very energon out of this annoying bot, he clearly wanted it, but he also wanted to know who else had a taste. Leaning forward Ratchet offlined his optics as he buried his faceplates into the side of the still bruised neck cables, venting out puffs of hot air as a digit stroked a seam in the pelvic armor, swallowing his guttal moan as the smaller mech let out a whimper of need. “The sooner you tell me, the sooner I’ll start to move.” That seemed to be the breaking point as the scout let out a soft cry.

Bumblebee prided himself being an Autobot and being the fastest scout on Earth, he could hold his own against a Decepticon long enough for his teammates to arrive and lend a helping servo. No doubt he would never give up any information if he was ever captured by Megatron and tortured. But when the veteran medic refused to frag him he broke down and told him all about the evening he spent with the twins including copious cubes of high grade, followed by his “training” with the two ninjas including how he snuck into Prowl’s room via his tree, then painting with Bulkhead which was followed by a solvent wash and his attempts at trying to tend to his own injuries. He let out a low keen of pleasure when the older mech’s thrusts, which had started off as slow and shallow, were now becoming harder and faster, rubbing against his buzzing sensor nodes and finally giving him the pleasure he had been begging for since they started. “Yes! Yes, like that! More!” he panted, twisting his pinned servos and bucking his hips, tightening his stabilizers around the waist his optics brightened as denta bit down into the possessive marks left on his neck cables earlier, mewling as they were sucked on as well; it was getting harder to keep quiet but he was beyond caring anymore.

Primus, five mechs total? That would explain why his scanners had picked up more than one strand of CNA during his examination but the scout’s valve was still so tight and supple, squeezing him so tightly it hurt but it was a wonderful kind of pain that made the old medbot want more. The friction from their pelvic armor was uncomfortable but Ratchet couldn’t stop as he tried driving his spike in deeper with each thrust; he snaked his servo between their withering frames and wrapped around the length of the yellow and black spike, purposely rubbing a thick digit over then sealing the opening, letting the flow of transfluid build up before letting go, pumping the rigid cable and smearing the silvery drops over the glowing biolights. Grunting in pleasure the medic pressed the scout harder into the door, but no matter how hard he tried he was unable to frag him like he wanted, how they both wanted.

Slowly red hips stopped moving, pinning the yellow hips firmly to the door, ignoring the exotic whimpers and pleas to frag him. It took a great deal of processing power to get his systems to obey him as he wrapped his servos around the overheated frame, digits curling over the brightly color aft to pull him away from the slightly dented door. Bumblebee immediately wrapped his own servos around his neck cables, leaning back far enough to take his lip plates into a messy kiss, glossia sliding against one another, trying to grind their hips together. The CMO grunted, kissing him back just as messily but he managed to cross the short distance to his berth, pinning him down to the lightly cushioned top and took a moment to savor the feeling as his spike sank into the valve deeper than before, as well as allowing him to grind against the minibot who bucked and arched into him, clinging to him and digging his nimble digits into his seams. For several kliks, the two mechs withered on the berth, pushing and grinding against one another, the wet sounds of their interfacing equipment making such lewd wet sounds, cooling fans running on high as their systems practically roared, Ratchet abruptly sat up, clutching the yellow mech he let out a deep grunt and rocked his hips harder, moving in as deep as he could until he felt the tip of his spike touch the back of the valve and without warning, magnetized the tip so it connected. He swore the valve grew so much tighter he thought it was going to crush him, even his optics offlined as the frame beneath him arched up, trembling violently. A curse slipped free when he felt sparks of electricity snap over his plating, wondering vaguely if the scout was glitching but it was quickly forgotten as he felt a burning hot rush of lubricant suddenly fill the valve it triggered his own overload. Despite the way the plush mesh folds were stretched tightly around his spike’s girth the dirty cocktail of fluids managed to spill freely, staining the berthtop.

“F-F-Fr-agging-g-g Pitt-t-t!” Ratchet grunted, rocking his hips against Bee’s, feeling nodes vibrate against his spike, enjoying the feel of the slick cables shifting around his still rigid spike. And speaking of spikes, he sat up and found that the rigid cable between their frames had yet to overload despite the heavy amounts of transfluid smeared between them. With errors and warnings lighting up his HUD he reached out and once more wrapped his heated digits around the spike and began stroking and tugging at it, smirking as he increased the temperature of his servo, watching the way the mech chocked out his designation, reaching down to grip the edges of the berth as he arched into his touch.

“Ratch! Ri-right t‘ere! Plea’e more!” Bee begged shamelessly, ignoring the warnings that his systems were going to suffer another massive crash. His cries were filled with static and the powerful magnetic pull he could feel at the end of his valve was so good but so was the heat teasing at the sensors in his spike.

“Overload Bee,” Ratchet grunted as he increased the pumping, angling his servo as he dragged a very heated digit along a string of biolights along the underside of the spike, caressing a very thin line of sensors that was incredibly sensitive to temperature and touch was located and something he exploited happily. “Medic’s orders.” Excited cries and wordless panting was heard as the smaller hips bucked frantically, yellow servos clawing at the berth it didn’t take long for his patient to experience another overload, a rush of transfluid spurting free and not only coating the rapidly pumping servo but their heaving chassies. It was so strong Bumblebee couldn’t take it anymore and crashed before he could finish. Ratchet struggled to remain online, but with so many vorns of experience under his fan belts his system couldn’t take it anymore and he crashed just as hard, but not before moving to the side of the berth, pulling the smaller mech to his chassis.

It was cycles later and the minibot found his systems starting up one by one, another bout of confusion until he played back his most recent back-up, followed by another low groan followed by a servo coming up to cover his faceplates.

_‘If this is some kinda joke, it’s not funny,’_ he thought to himself. Four crashes followed by, what, twice as many overloads in less than a servoful of solar cycles? That had to be some kind of record but the only record he was interested in was highest score on his favorite video games and being the faster thing on four wheels. Once his system was completely online he sat up but shuddered his optics when he realized he wasn’t in pain, not in the slightest. He even found himself cleaned up and his panel completely closed, but there was also a familiar jar of blue salve sitting on the table next to his berth. Slowly reaching over he took it and realized he had a comm from the medbot himself.

_“You better not undo all the work I did in repairing you, but if it happens again, just use the salve I left you. And… if anything else comes up, just… I’m the medic so… uh… stop being reckless!!”_

“… okaaay… I’ll keep that on my processor,” Bee thought to himself as he looked at the jar before putting it into his subspace. With the way things were going, he rather have it and not need it then need it and not have it.

* * *

For a while things were fine, Bumblebee was able to forget about fragging some of his best friends (though there was some awkwardness with Prowl) but things seemed to be going okay.

…

……

………

Oh, who was he kidding?! Instead of things getting better things were getting worse, and whenever he felt the need to get some relief he either went to the jettwins (who were more than happy to include him), Bulkhead (which lead to another painting session), and Ratchet (who performed repeated scans on him before and after—provided he still had the energy to do so). He even tried continuing with his ninja lessons and they seemed to work for a little bit, but they seemed to know when his attention was wavering and cut it short or said something had come up and they had to stop. Jazz had let him down gently that he did like him, but not like that. Bumblebee didn’t help matters when he told him he liked the Elite Guardsmech back but not like that, he just needed to rid himself of the charge. Things were awkward but he didn’t say no. The only mech who seemed to avoid him completely had been Prowl and it broke the minibot’s spark.

_‘The way I’m acting like-like some pleasure drone, I don’t blame him,’_ he thought to himself, leaning back in his seat during his monitor shift. So far Decepticon activity had been quiet, and there were barely any reports of crime in New Detroit. It was quiet, peaceful, and utterly boring! He really wished he had his portable game so at least he had something to do but Optimus took it away when he caught him playing it instead of doing his duty. But what else was he suppose to do? And there had been no reports of AllSpark activity so if there were any fragments out there, none of them had activated.

_‘Still bored… so bored… so unbelievably and incredibly booooorrreed!’_ he winced to himself and slouched down in his seat, frowning at the screen and wishing something would happen. Not his wisest choice of words but there was a loud bang and he couldn’t help but yelp and immediately turned his attention to the screens. Was there a sudden attack on the city? Did an explosion go off? Were the Decepticons attacking?

“If I have to hear from that aft one more time, I’m going to blow a motherboard! After I introduce his lance to his exhaust port!” came a very pissed off growl/threat as the mech stormed past the communication center.

Bumblebee shuddered his optics and peering over the back of his seat watched as the boss bot stormed his way past him, not even acknowledging him as he stormed to the hall and jumped when he heard the door to his own berthroom slam shut. If he adjusted his audios correctly, he could no doubt hear him cursing and muttering up a storm.

_‘Three guesses who got him in a really bad mood, and the first two don’t count,’_ he thought to himself. Part of him wanted to help him out, but when he got like this no one was safe and even Ratchet stayed away until he calmed down. Which was fine and all that so the scout settled himself back in his seat but after a few kliks he found himself just as bored as before. There was nothing going on but he still had at least a joor to go but thinking back to his leader he felt his systems begin to warm up, optics losing focus as his processor brought up images and videos of him which caused his cooling fans to kick on rapidly. It wasn’t hard to see why Sentinel didn’t like him, Optimus was everything that slagger wished he was but the more Bee thought about his commanding officer the more he imagined what he would look like in the throes of pleasure. Would he let him do whatever he wanted, begging for more? Or would he take command and order the scout to pleasure him? Primus! His yellow digits rubbed at his panel, feeling it ready to slide open, to allow the lubricant to drip freely. The scout pressed his stabilizers tightly together but he longed to feel something thick, long, and hard forcing its way inside, making him scream in pleasur-

The multiple sounds of engines roaring into the factory filled the silence, at least three vehicles entering before the sounds of gears transforming and armor plating pulling back to reveal the three Autobots. So busy talking among each other they didn’t seem to notice the smallest member of their team—which he was happy for once of his small frame. Bumblebee quickly pulled his servo from his plating and struggling to cut the power to his cooling fans. Warnings popped up in his HUD that his systems were still heated but he ignored it and turned to face his team.

“H-Hey mechs, what’s going on?” he asked with a weak grin.

“I swear he’s got something loose up there, why would we take anything from the SteelHaven?!” Ratchet snapped at no one in particular.

“But we didn’t take anything. We don’t even go to his ship,” Bulkhead tried to reason.

Bumblebee blinked but vented softly. Okay, those two clearly didn’t hear him but he nodded to the ninja as he came over to the communication center. “Hey Prowl, what’s going on?”

“Sentinel is still convinced one of us took something from his ship’s cargo hold,” he answered tensely. “And he continues to refuse to tell us what it was so we can help him look for it.”

“He’s still going on about that?” What the slag was so important that he couldn’t just tell them? “Is that what got Optimus so mad?”

“I wish it were that easy. Sentinel once more insulted Optimus’ leadership skills, or rather his lack of them, among other things. It nearly came to blows between them it took all of us and the Elite Guard to keep them from tearing one another apart.”

“Whoa.” Bumblebee shuttered his optics, trying to picture it. Senti-aft was always in a glitchy mood, he never saw him as anything else. But he had never seen his Prime that mad before. _‘But he’s doing the best he can, and what makes that walking scrap heap think he’s better than everybot else?’_ he thought to himself, narrowing his optics in thought. _‘Somebot needs to teach him a lesson.’_

“Bumblebee?”

“Huh?” He blinked and looked up at the ninja who was looking at him in concern. “Oh. Sorry Prowler, just thinking about something.” He paused, glancing at the hall that lead to their berthrooms he looked up at him once more. “Hey, I know I have another joor for monitor duty, but can you take over? There’s something I gotta do.”

Normally the ninja-in-training wouldn’t have thought about letting the scout shirk his duties, but something had changed the minibot’s chaotic personality program, for the better, but something didn’t feel right. Venting softly, Prowl agreed and was surprised when he was embraced. His fans kicked on with a low whirl; he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to get used to being physically touched like this no matter how enjoyable it felt.

“Thanks, Prowler!” On impulse, Bee pulled the stunned ninja down and kissed him quickly before heading for the hallway. He didn’t know why he did that but he didn’t dwell on it for too long. Passing by the rooms he stopped in front of his Prime’s door and waited a few kliks before knocking on it. “Optimus? It’s me, Bumblebee,” he called out but there was no answer. “Can… can, I come in?” There was no answer but pressing his servo to the door he pulled back when it opened. Peering in he saw that the Prime was sitting in front of his desk, staring at the monitors intently that he didn’t seem to notice him. He should have left, he clearly didn’t want to talk but he noticed the way the digits on one of his servos was tapping at the corner of his desk hard enough to caused a dent and it seemed to be getting deeper with each tap. The scout paused before entering the room, listening to the door close behind him. “O-Optimus? You alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“Oh.” A brief pause. “I heard you got in an argument with Sentinel-”

“You’ve been visiting the SteelHaven a lot lately.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, you know, hanging out with the jettwins and Jazz, training.” Among other things he added to himself privately.

“Did you ever take anything from there?”

Take? “Like what?”

“Like something you weren’t supposed to.”

“What?? No!! Boss bot, you know me! I’d never take anything from anywhere, especially from another Autobot!” he exclaimed. Did he really think he was a thief? That hurt a bit but he refused to back down and before he knew it he found himself yelling at his commanding officer. “Look, I don’t know what the frag Senti-aft lost but going around blaming me for taking whatever-the-Pitt he lost isn’t fair! Or right!”

“No one else has gone to the SteelHaven except for you, even the security cameras prove it so who else could it have been?” he argued without turning to look at him.

“Because Sentinel is such a glitched up coward he always thinks he’s going to catch some organic virus the moment he steps away from his precious ship! He never lets Jetstorm and Jetfire out to visit me so I go hang out with them! What the slag happened to believing in your team?!”

“I believe in what my optics tell me!”

“No, you believe what Sentinel says because he thinks he’s better than you!!” The tapping stopped but Bumblebee was venting too hard to notice that or the way Prime was looking at him via the reflection in the screens. “I always thought you were better than Sentinel, and not because you didn’t call me Bumbler or insult Bulkhead and everyone else, but because you cared about us as your friends and didn’t throw your mass around just because you were named a Prime. You…” The minibot trailed off, trying to think of his words as he looked away before taking a few steps deeper into the room, towards him. “Boss—Optimus… you are a great leader and the only reason Sentinel yells at you is because he knows you’re better than him at everything.” Standing behind him he reached out slowly, hesitating before resting his servo on the plating of his upper arm, feeling it tense under his touch. “A wise mech once told me, a true leader puts the needs of the mechs under his command before his own, and always listens to them before listening to anybot else.”

Optimus didn’t say anything but slowly he offlined his optics, intaking deeply he released it slowly and felt the tension and anger flow out of him, allowing him to sink back in his chair. Reaching up he covered the smaller servo with his own, squeezing it tightly. “And here I thought my words went through one audio and out the other,” he teased softly, a small smile touching his derma plating.

“I listen. I just choose what I want to hear,” he smiled. Seeing that his leader was relaxed Bee stepped in front of the taller Prime and leaned forward to wrap his servos around his neck in a hug the same way Sari would hug them. He felt him tense but he soon felt servos come up and warp around him, hugging him back tightly and pretty much pulling him onto his lap. “Don’t stop being the great leader I know you are, boss bot.”

“… thanks, Bumblebee. I just needed a reminder,” Optimus said softly even as he held him tighter. “And… I’m sorry for accusing you.”

“So right. Besides, you’ll always be a better mech than that glitched up aft.”

“Bumblebee…”

“What? C’mon, why else is he always insulting you more than anybot else?” Pulling back the scout looked at his leader. “I may not be smart like Bulkhead or sneaky like Prowl, but I do notice stuff. And I know that Sentinel always insults you and is always trying to prove he’s better. But he’s not better than you and he never will be.”

Optimus couldn’t help but smile at his bright scout, happy that he had come here to try and cheer him up. The team would not have been the same without him. “How can you be so sure?” he asked with a small smile.

“I just know.” As he was talking he didn’t realize his servos were tracing his frame, digits tracing the smooth lines, tracing and stroking tense wires. With each stroke Bumblebee could feel the larger mech relaxing under his touch he was also aware of the way his own blue servos rested on his waist, digits absently stroking the seams of his pelvic armor. There was a low hum of cooling fans filling the room but it took him a klik or two to realize it was the sound of their cooling fans. Once more that familiar heat was filling his frame and this time Bumblebee didn’t try to stop it. Slowly he slid his servos up the red chassis, gripping the broad shoulders he leaned forward so their frames were pressed much closer than before. He gave his engines a rev and felt the other engine rev in response. He smiled as the surprised look on the Prime’s faceplates, the way his cheek ridges heated up in a blush but when he opened his mouth to speak he darted forward and kissed him.

Needless to say, the Prime was not expecting to be kissed and like a clueless bot he tended to be without realizing it. He froze before struggling to remove the smaller mech, trying to get him to let go but there was something about the way he kissed him that he felt as though he couldn’t get enough. Slowly his servos slid down his arms, down his back strut, then onto his hips. He moaned as he felt a glossia lick at his derma, silently asking for permission which he slowly granted.

_‘T-This is wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this,’_ Optimus thought to himself but there was nothing in the rules that said this wasn’t allowed. He wasn’t taking advantage of a mech under his command, nor was anybot getting hurt by this. Bumblebee was merely showing his affection in his own way. Organics did this all the time as far as he knew, so what was the harm? The kiss slowly broke apart, both mechs venting heavily, fans running on high, but before he could say anything the yellow scout smirked, optics darkening as he leaned forward once more, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth plates and continued, moving down and teasing the thick cables in his neck with little flicks of his glossia. “B-Bumb-blebee… wha… a-are you do-oohhh-ing…” he moaned softly, shuddering as the yellow mech found a particularly sensitive node.

“Hmmm?” The soft vibrations cause the larger mech to shudder even more, digits flexing over his hips, digging into seams and pulling him even closer. Giving the node hidden beneath the cables a lick Bee pulled back to whisper into the Prime’s audio, “Helping you relax and proving how great a mech you are.” He was getting a nice charge going and he could tell Optimus was feeling it but he could also tell he was still tense. Maybe, he didn’t want it, but his EM field was practically screaming his sexual need so why not help him enjoy it? Curling his servo around the back of the blue helm the scout nuzzled his leader under his chin, licking at the cables as he tilted his helm back. His other yellow servo moved down the warming frame, tracing seams his smaller digits moved into gaps and stroked at wires and cables. “You’re so tense, boss bot… you gotta learn to relax before you burst a circuit or something…” Bee murmured as he continued to lick and kiss a trail down the hot frame. He would pause now and then, waiting to see if his Prime really wanted this to stop but each time he would either pull him closer or moan his designation in obvious want. Who was he to deny his fearless leader?

As a rule, Optimus never thought of his teammates in such a manner, his processor was usually too busy to think of anything outside of dealing with the return of Megatron and his Decepticons attacking the organic city, searching for AllSpark fragments, trying to keep his unruly team inline, and countless other things. Even during times of recharge, he was running scenarios and strategies that would end in their favor. But now… now… “Primus!” he cried out, frame tensing he gripped the edges of his desk hard enough to leave dents but his fans were running high as they tried to relieve the heated air from his systems as he looked down with burning optics, watching the compact yellow frame kneeling on the floor before him, small yellow servos stroking his upper stabilizers, a slick glossia lapping at his panel, leaving trails of oral lubricants on the blue plating. He tried to keep his panel close, ignoring the urgings from his system. “Bee-” he tried moaning to him, whether to stop or continue he wasn’t sure but those big blue optics looked up at him in such a way that his engine gave a strong enough rumble that made his entire frame vibrate.

“Open up, boss bot… lemme do this for you…” came the heated whisper, that slick glossia coming out to once more lick at the panel thickly, tips of talented digits easing into the gaps where stabilizers connected to the pelvic area and stroked heated wires. The panel couldn’t open fast enough and a fully pressurized spike popped out like a jack-in-the-box (the scout still didn’t understand why the humans named the toy ‘Jack’). Surprised at how fast it appeared he pulled back and studied the rigid cable before him.

His commanding officer/leader was a big mech, well proportionate, he didn’t need fancy enamels or crazy mods like he knew other bots needed, he let his talents speak for themselves. But his spike… it was a gleaming light blue-silver color, thicker and longer and of Primus he couldn’t help himself; Bumblebee slid a servo down to wrap his digits around the base of the cable and began to slowly stroke it, watching as thick drops of transfluid oozed from the tip and dripped down. He paused when the hips jerked in response, bucking into his touch but when he stopped they tried holding back, nearly vibrating. He slowly began to stroke it once more, feeling the delicate and very sensitive wires and sensors respond to his touch. When the hips bucked he stopped, even squeezed the base of the spike firmly, making the owner let out a rumbling cry. He looked up, optics roaming the heaving chassis and felt his own panel slide back at the look of pure and unbridled lust of his Prime, the way his optics turned a dark shade of midnight blue, the way his denta bit down on his lower derma plating to keep from getting too loud. His servo was clutching the edge of his desk so hard there were clearly dents the size of his digits embedded in the console. He was clearly getting overwhelmed by the pleasure but he refused to say or do anything.

“Optimus…” Oh Primus he was so turned on, he didn’t need to look down to know his valve was leaking quite a bit of lubricant but he kept looking at him as he lowered his faceplates down, sliding his servo up to settle just behind the tip, pressed his lip plates to it and suckled at the tip, running his glossia over the opening and moaning as the transfluid flowed down into his tanks. The vibrations from the firetruck was so intense even Bee could feel it. Moaning he dimmed his optics and took the spike deeper into his mouth little by little, stroking in time with the hips thrusting shallowly against him. Size wise Bumblebee could barely wrap his lip plates around it, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to comfortably take it all in, but what he could he licked and sucked at it with much enthusiasm, his servo stroking what couldn’t fit. His other servo continued to stroke and rub at the wires he could reach, clutching at the heated plating. His valve clenched at thin air, eager to feel that wonderful spike forcing its way in and out, lubricant dripping heavily onto the floor beneath his stabilizers.

“Bee…” the red and blue mech groaned, barely registering the pain of biting into his bottom lip plate, or else somebot was likely to hear and come investigate! Leaning back in his seat the Prime forced himself to release the desk, not caring that he just about tore it apart with his bare servo and cradled the back of the yellow helm, stroking the smooth plating he rubbed the base of one of the horns and was rewarded with a muffled cry that had his scout leaning into his touch, stroking him faster and sucking at his spike harder. “O-Oh… like that?” Optimus teased and reached down so he was now holding the helm in both servos, rubbing at both sensory horns with his digits, changing from almost there caresses to dragging the tip of his blunt digits into the thin seams, the change in tempo making the scout mew softly, begging for more as he messily licked at the leaking cable, letting the transfluid smear over his faceplates, or frantic moaning as he tried to take him as deeply as he could into his mouth, letting his Prime guide his head back and forth. It was so good, the Prime loved hearing the little noises the minibot made but he also enjoyed the way his mouth felt, the way his glossia flicked at the opening that he wanted to feel more. “M-More… I know, you want it!” Optimus grunted, pulling him closer, watching as more of his spike was swallowed.

Frag yes, he wanted more! Bumblebee was so used to taking the lead, telling the mechs what he wanted or showing them but his Prime was more interested in his own release. That sent a heated thrill through his system, his servo stroking what he could of the spike, kneading the base, feeling the electrical charge building up but he held back, refusing to let it go. Last time he used it he got in trouble with Ratchet and he didn’t think he would be quite so happy to tend to the same injuries a second time. But his other servo slid down to between his own stabilizers, crying out his digits came away so wet but instead of pushing them past the mesh folds he rubbed at his anterior node; it was so sensitive, if he rubbed too hard it ended up being more painful than pleasurable so he settled for stroking it, using his digits to part the outer folds his hips jerked into his touch as he took in half of the Prime’s spike and revved his engine once more, causing his compact frame to vibrate strongly.

The larger mech wasn’t sure if he could last much longer, the way the vibrations traveled from the scout’s chassis up to his mouth, the feel of hot mouth sucking and swallowing every drop of transfluid leaking freely, listening to his muffled cries. He tried to hold back, he really did, but Optimus didn’t have a chance to warn the scout was what was going to happen even as he grabbed the bobbing helm with both servos, pulling as close as he could, feeling the tip of his spike touch the back of the minibot’s throat and growled his designation as he came, weakly thrusting his hips as he felt his scout swallow everything down. His frame shook, plating rattled as his fans struggled to cool the mech down. Venting heavily the Prime sat back on his chair, digits gently tracing the seams on the yellow helm as he relaxed his tight grip. He watched with dim optics as Bumblebee slowly pulled off with a heavy gasp of air, panting deeply. It was such an erotic sight as he lazily continued stroking his spike, licking stray drops of the silvery fluids he missed. Still panting the larger mech reached out to affectionately wipe some transfluid away from the side of his faceplates, engine rumbling softly as the smaller mech held the digit to his mouth, licking it clean. “Bee…” he moaned deeply, realizing with some pride that his spike was still pressurized.

The scout gave a low hum, giving the digit another lick before lowering his servo, looking up at him with dark optics. “You overloaded a lot, boss bot… almost couldn’t swallow it all, but…” His glossia managed to lap up a stray drop that continued to cling to his lip plates, never looking away. “I did.”

“Yes… you did-” Any words died on Optimus’ glossia as the yellow mech placed both of his servos on his stabilizers and slowly pushed himself up; he reached out to help him but froze and watched as the scout stood only to sit back on the damaged desk, black stabilizers spread wide; the Prime swallowed when he saw the oily lubricant covering the inside of his stabilizers, as well as his uncovered valve. He found himself pulling his chair closer, watching as yellow digits reached down to part the mesh folds, allowing more lubricant to drip freely, enticing him. His large servos shook as they stroked the slender stabilizers, his vents cycling hot air rapidly but he didn’t notice or he didn’t care.

“Think I had a minor overload,” the scout panted as he continued holding the folds open, leaning back against the monitors. “Sucking your spike was good… really good… but, kept thinking what, it’d feel like.” A digit once more resumed rubbing at the sensitive node, the build up from the charge causing him to ache something fierce but he tried to ignore it, letting the charge build. Pushing a digit in caused his hips to twitch and more lubricant to gush out but he was more interested in the faceplates of his commanding officer. Bee withdrew his digit, oily lubricant coating it with a strand that continued to connect to his valve until it broke naturally. He was prepared to lick it clean but instead he held it out to the Prime, a small smile touching his lip plates. “Wanna taste?”

Dark blue optics shuddered, zooming in on the digit held before him, unsure how to answer, or how to propose what was going on but instead he leaned forward and took the digit into his mouth. As soon as the substance touched his glossia he began sucking it clean, purposely probing the slight seams with the tip. It tasted really good, but as his tanks gave a rumble he knew he needed—wanted more. So much more. Pulling back from the digit his servos gripped the yellow hips tightly and before he could even think of stopping, the Prime of Earth had his faceplates pressed between the minibot’s stabilizers, derma plating sealed over the leaking valve as his glossia eagerly plunged in, trying to get at the delicious fluids directly from the source.

The first thing Bee wanted to do was curse, and possibly kick out in surprise, but the suddenness of Optimus, his friend, his commanding officer, his leader, going down on him like this, using his glossia in a way that made him try to arch up into him, seeking more. “B-Boss bot! Good—really good-aah!!” he cried out as the servos slid under his stabilizers and pushed them up, opening him wider. Whimpering softly, he reached down to grip the back of the blue helm, pulling him closer. He cried out louder as the glossia rubbed along his internal nodes, causing more lubricant to gush out. “More! Please, more!” the scout begged and whimpered as the glossia brushed over the same nodes, his valve clenching around the intrusion in response. The licking continued, cooling fans struggling to keep systems from overheating but before the scout could overload the talented mouth pulled back. “Optimusss…” he whined softly, trying to pull him down but as he onlined his optics his derma were caught in a heated kiss and he moaned as a glossia slick with his lubricant pushed in, giving him a taste as well.

Oh, by the Thirteen the minibot tasted so so sweet! His pressurized spike was hurting something awful, longing to be pushed into the slick valve. “Want you, Bee… wanna spike you… needa spike you… please, let me in…” Optimus whispered against his lips, bucking against him, grunting as the valve grinded down on him. He held the hips firmly, lowering his forehelm down to rest against his scout’s. “Say yes.”

“Prime, yes, please! Frag me, prove to me you’re a better bot than Sentinel could ever be,” he panted, spreading his stabilizers wide the scout’s engine purred deeply as he felt the spike grind against his valve, spreading the wet folds apart to allow his lubricant to coat the cable. Sliding a servo down he wrapped his yellow digits around the silvery blue spike and leaned back against the monitors to guide it in. Both let out low deep groans, frames tensing and relaxing but Bumblebee reached up to grip the top edge of one of the screens, backstrut arching as his Prime slowly withdrew until only the tip of his spike remained, then pushed back in, making his engine rumble louder. He worked his valve over the intrusion, relaxing when it withdrew and clenching down when he tried pulling out. He could tell the larger mech didn’t want to hurt him, letting him adjust but he also knew he wanted him to let loose. Feeling him push back in he wrapped his stabilizers firmly around the narrow waist, keeping him from moving.

“Ahh… Bu-Bumblebee… w… what…?” Optimus moaned, looking down at the scout and shivering at the intense look of lust in his optics. They seemed to be drawing him in and he felt himself leaning over him, one of his servos stroking the minibot’s side, the other laying on the desktop. Their derma plating was barely touching, their heated breath mingling, optics dark and unblinking.

“Stop thinking and frag me, Optimus. You won’t hurt me, and I know you want this,” the scout said simply; seeing that his leader still seemed unsure he grinned as he rolled his hips even as he managed to lift his aft off the desktop, tightening down on the spike still buried deep in his valve, arching his backstrut and enjoying the way the optics watched him intently. “I know you want it, Optimus… remember how wet I got sucking your spike?”

How could he forget? His lubricant was sweeter than energon treat, finer than any high grade. Flexing his digits on the slender hip Prime slowly pulled out, moaning at the feel of the internal cabling tightening around him, trying to keep him in. With only the tip in he waited, watching his scout squirm but just as he was able to say something he pushed back in harder than before, shivering at the wet sound it made and the feel of lubricant gushing out of the tight seal. It was as though his desire and lust won out so there was nothing to stop him from slowly pulling out once more only to slam back in, lifting the smaller mech slightly.

The canary yellow speedster cried out with each powerful thrust, making his hips lift into the air as they continued grinding their hips together. He vaguely heard something cracking behind him but it didn’t matter as long as his Prime didn’t stop fragging him! “L-Like that, boss! Please, do-don’t stop… being you,” he panted, once more arching his backstrut as a particularly hard thrust activated even more sensors, making him cry out.

So tight and wet, heated frame rubbing against his own, Optimus felt like he couldn’t get enough of it! Grunting he gripped the yellow aft, grinding their hips together that they were creating sparks. The action actually caused Bee’s highly sensitive anterior node to be rubbed against, making the mech cry out louder, begging him for more. “I like hearing my designation from your derma,” he rumbled into his audio, blanketing his frame with his own. “Say it again. Tell me how good it feels, fragging you over my desk.”

Despite the amount of data flooding his systems, Bumblebee realized that each time he praised the Prime the pleasure increased, as though thanking him for the compliments. Well, he certainly didn’t mind praising him. “Optimus—d-don’t stop, fragging me! Your spike is—Primus!—is so big, po-powerful! No wonder you’re—yes! Right there!—a Prime! Harder, faster! Frag me, Optimus!” Bee cried out, dimly aware that he was drooling slightly, grinding against the Prime as hard as he could. “So close! Ma-Make me overload!”

“Yes!!” Grunting Optimus continued slamming into the smaller mech, his spike pressing and rubbing against every node in the slick valve. The lean stabilizers continued to cling to him, hips grinding the paint off one another, it was too much and try as hard as he could Optimus couldn’t hold it back anymore and chocked back a shout as he emptied himself into the scout.

Bee swore he fried something from holding the charge in the moment he felt the hot rush of transfluid flood his valve, but it didn’t stop him from shouting out the Prime’s full designation as he fell into his own overload, valve tightening even more around the spike. Inside he could feel their fluids mixing and didn’t want to waste a single drop as the spike continued to thrust into him with shallow motions. The two mechs stayed like them, frames slowly cooling down and systems resetting themselves. Slowly, Optimus pulled back, his spike making a very lewd suction sound but the sight of the valve gaping open before slowly closing was a beautiful sight. A small servo stroked his cheek ridge and he smiled at the bot it belonged to. “Are, you alright?” he asked softly.

“Should me asking you that… Optimus.” Smiling up at his Prime, Bumblebee pulled him down and kissed him softly. “Don’t let that aft get to you, you’re a great leader and there’s no one else I’d ever wanna serve under.”

“Bee…” Covering his servo the red and blue Prime thanked the yellow minibot, and locating a pair of cleaning cloths gave one to him. He was aware of the black and yellow paint transfers on his own plating but didn’t bring it up. Another thing he noticed was he didn’t feel guilty about this; his scout offered himself and he accepted.

Bumblebee slowly stepped down from the desk, letting his panels close he looked to the desk and only then felt his cheek ridges heat up. “Um, I think you need a new desk, boss bot… and maybe a new monitor.” In the grips of their pleasure dents the shape of the prime’s digits warped the edges, the desktop was scratched up with faint yellow and black paint transfers, but one of the monitors was smoking as though the circuits had been fried and the screen was broken as though it had been grabbed roughly.

Optimus looked over and chuckled softly. “I’ll replace them later.” Suddenly feeling very tired he moved over his berth and sat down heavily, his systems warning him of a pending recharge. “I have to finish those reports…”

“You can finish them after you get some rest,” the scout said even as he gently pushed his leader to lay back. He was feeling tired himself but he fought it off, watching as his commanding officer didn’t fight to get up and instead slipped into recharge. He really did admire him for putting up with so much, but remembering what caused him to get so mad and frustrated in the first place made him even more pissed off.

_‘I think it’s time someone put Sentinel in his place,’_ Bumblebee thought to himself. And since no one had the ball bearings to stand up to the egotistical overly-large-chinned aft, he was going to do it himself.

* * *

The canary yellow minibot found himself outside the loading ram for the SteelHaven. Sentinel still refused to believe that he couldn’t catch an Earth-created virus and instead of taking Optimus’ hospitality, parked the ship right here on the outskirts of the city. Well, this would work well in his favor for what he had planned. He also knew that there was no one around, the other Elite Guardsmechs were out patrolling. No one knew he was here himself but even so he had nothing to hide.

_‘I’m not the only bot who wants to teach this aft a lesson about manners,’_ he growled to himself. Stepping inside he began walking the halls, trying to remember the tour the twins had given him before. He was about to go to the main bulk of the ship where he remembered the twins would tell him how he would spend most of his time in the captain’s seat, pretending to be the Magnus but as he passed by a door he paused and adjusted his audios.

“—know they’re—from me!”

Bee didn’t need to be a genius to know who was in the room or what he was saying; lifting his servo he pressed the panel and it opened, allowing him to step inside.

Sentinel looked up where he was angrily pacing his room only to shudder his optics, staring at the brightly colored minibot. “Bumbler?? What the slag are you doing here?!” he demanded angrily.

“I want an apology from you,” he said firmly. He didn’t care if this bot was bigger than him, he was an aft and one way or another, the giant walking glitch was going to apologize before he left.

“Apologize?? For what?”

“Besides being a slagged glitch? For insulting Optimus! You’re just pissy that he’s more of a mech than you could ever dream of being!!” the scout snapped at him angrily, crossing the short distance between them to angrily jam his digit at his abdominal plating, just below where the protective plating for his chassis ended. “He’s got enough to deal with, and you coming here when we needed you the least is not helping his oil pressure!”

Sentinel shuddered his optics before narrowing them and leaned down, feeling just a tad irritated that the minibot wasn’t showing the east bit of fear as he leaned in. “Listen here, Bumbler. I don’t apologize for anything. And if your Prime is so great, then he would’ve made sure the AllSpark didn’t get smashed into a million pieces. He’s a wash-out but so are you and the rest of your misfit crew.”

“You better watch your glossia, aft-faceplates,” Bumblebee warned lowly.

The Prime scoffed and resumed his full-height and with what could be constituted as a shove, brushed the smaller mech to the side. “Or what? Once a wash-out, always a wash-out. Another reason Optimus would never have made it as part of the Elite Guard, he needs a minibot to save his aft.” Laughing at his own joke, the Prime raised his servo to open the door to his quarters but a sudden electrical charge surged throughout his systems, immobilizing him. Errors filled his HUD before his processor crashed. Optics dark, the heavy frame tilted forward and slammed his faceplates into the still closed doors. Behind him, the scowling minibot wordlessly allowed his stinger to revert back into his servo even as he continued to glared at the fallen bot.

“I warned you, slagger,” he said coldly.

* * *

Systems slowly booted up and it left Sentinel with a processor ache directly from the Pitt itself. Optics onlined, revealing a world blurred and pixelated but when he tried to sit up he found that he couldn’t. His motor relays were sluggish but even so he was vaguely away that he had been tied down.

_‘What the slag?’_ Cursing at his systems to hurry up his optics cleared enough to see and he lifted his helm only to see that he was still in his own quarters aboard the SteelHaven, and he was bound to his berth. Frowning he tied pulling at one of his stabilizers but they had been bound in a way where they were forced wide apart. Looking up he saw his servos were also bound at either side of his helm. “What’s going on?!” he demanded and struggled against whatever had him bound.

“I told you I’m here for an apology and I’m not going to leave until I get one.”

“Huh??” Lift his helm once more, the dark blue Prime looked around his room and discovered the minibot himself leaning against the wall opposite of his berth, servos crossed over his chassis. “You-” He was ready to yell at him and demand he release him when he realized not only could he barely move, but his comm link had been disabled and he didn’t have access to his Skyboom Shield or Battle Lance. His panic was increasing when he realized how trapped he was with no escape. “W-What in the Pitt did you do?! Release me now, you Bumbler or I’ll make you regret ever crossing me!! I’ll have you thrown in prison for assaulting a Prime so fast you’ll-” He never saw the minibot move or the way his servo transformed into his primary weapon but he felt the painful shock on the inside of his stabilizer, dangerously close to his array. It surprised him more than hurt but as quickly as he was shocked it stopped. “Y-You… you shocked me!”

“So, what if I did?” the scout asked coolly, looking down at him with ice cold optics.

“You pathetic little glitch! I’ll-!” Another painful shock on the other side, enough to make the larger mech yelp. “You’re gonna pay-” Another painful shock; every time it stopped, he would threaten the scout but the pain kept continuing. He lost track of how many times he was stung and his system was struggling to deal with the onslaught of pain overwhelming his sensors. Venting heavily, he opened his lip plates to continue yelling but he muted his vocalizer when he felt the pointed tip of the sting press right between his tinging stabilizers and he could hear the cackle of electricity charging up. The bound Prime immediately locked his jaw into place, vents stalling as he waited.

“… so you can learn something new,” Bumblebee said slowly as he removed his stinger and allowed it to transform back into his servo. “I’m only going to explain this once so shut your trap and listen very closely. You are the biggest glitch I have ever had the misfortune of meeting, you insult everybot around you and you couldn’t free yourself from a paper bag if your spark depended on it. You think just because you’re a Prime means you can do whatever you want and treats bots as nothing more than slag.” Pausing from his walk around he planted his servos on either side of his helm and leaned down to look at him. “Thanks to your yelling, I have this annoying ringing in my audio receiver, but how else is anybot gonna hear you from such a fat helm. Doesn’t help that your chin could easily be mistaken for one of Cybertron’s satellite moons.”

“Why you little-” A painful shock struck him right where his voice box was located and the bound mech let out a staticky cry of pain.

“Every time you talk out of turn, I will sting you. Each time you threaten me, I will sting you. If you insult my team, I. Will. Sting. You. But if you really wanna piss me off, I dare you to stay something.” To prove he wasn’t playing around, the yellow mech up the charged for both his stingers and held them before the Prime’s optics, small bursts of electricity jumping from the stingers and lighting up both their faceplates. At this charge, he really could do some serious harm to the larger mech and the way his optics grew huge, he knew it. Once more the large jaw locked shut and his entire frame went so tense he seemed like he was in stasis lock. Bumblebee looked down at him before pulling his stingers back and smirked down at his prisoner. “Good, mech. I won’t be so merciful next time. Now as I was saying, you’re a lot of things but you are no Prime,” he continued, stepping back from the berth to continue walking around. “You save most of your insults for Optimus because he’s the bot you wish you could be. He’s dedicated, he works hard, he doesn’t give up, he’s not the least bit afraid of an organic and sure he may not have graduated to become an Elite Guardsmech, but he’s still a Prime.”

Sentinel frowned and he twisted his servos where they were still bound but didn’t dare say anything. Who did this minibot think he was? He was still a Prime and he was still better than Optimus! He would always be better than that-that wash out! _‘Only reason he was named Prime was because Ultra Magnus is a sentimental old glitch!’_ he thought bitterly.

Bee slowly stopped at the foot of the berth and stared down at the Prime. “Talking to you is like talking to one of Sumdac’s Disposal Drone,” he muttered but his servos crossed over his chassis. “All I want is an apology and then I’ll let you go. So, what do you say?”

Apologize? Him? It sounded easy enough; make up some fake apology and once he was release beat the slagger into the ground and haul him to Trypticon Prison as soon as he got back to Cybertron! Grinding his denta together he gave a slow nod and watched as the minibot smirked as though he had won. Why that little-! “You pathetic little glitch. I’m sorry that you think Optimus is worth the protometal he’s made of! The only reason he was named a Prime was because Ultra Magnus is so old his processor has completely rusted over. You bots are nothing and will always be nothi-!” Whatever else he was going to say was lost in a cry of pain as the stingers struck him hard, allowing the heavy charges of electricity to shock him. Even his thick plating wasn’t enough to protect the sensitive protomesh beneath.

Bumblebee was so mad, as soon as Senti-aft opened his asteroid huge mouth and insulted his teammates he just lost it. He angrily jumped onto the berth and jabbed his stinger into the gap where a stabilizer connected to the pelvic part, the pointed tip pressing into sensitive wires and cables, scorching the metal and letting the charge settle over him. “You sound like a broken data pad, Sentinel slagger!” he spat angrily at him. “No one likes you; not my team, not your own team, not even the bots left on Cybertron! You… You’re the one who’s nothing!” he yelled back angrily, increasing the charge. He did jump slightly when the fragger himself suddenly bucked his frame upward, causing him to fall back but before he could continue to fry the other mech Bee froze at what he was looking at.

The kind of electrical charge the scout was giving out would have hurt any other bot, the fact that he had purposely pushed the tip into the gap between metal plating, shocking the cables and wires it was suppose to protect. He knew if he wasn’t careful, the minibot really could hurt the fragger. But his punishment seemed to have an opposite effect on the larger mech. The protective cod piece that hid (and protected) a bot’s interface components had snapped open to reveal a wet-looking valve, as well as a fully pressurized spike. It was very unexpected, but it didn’t stop the scout from moving forward and reaching out to brush the tips of his digits along the jutting cable. Sentinel let out a low moan of arousal, hips bucking up _into_ his touch. A cruel smirk tugged at the derma plating as the digits continued their teasing exploration.

“Somebot is a naughty fragger,” he spoke lowly.

“Hunnn…” Now what was the little glitch going on about? And why were his cooling fans running on high? The Prime failed to realize that his frame was overheated or that the painful shocks had left behind a very pleasant tingle that was overwhelming his sensory network. He let out another low moan as the incredibly light pressure along his spike increased, bucking his hips up for more but he froze when he realized what he was doing. Forgetting about the restraints, Sentinel lifted his helm and looked down the length of his frame, faceplates heating up at the sight of a yellow and black servo stroking his spike. “Y-You-?!” he began to yell but the words died in his vocalizer. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to yell at him to stop or continue; his stabilizers tugged at his restraints but he couldn’t do anything to stop the minibot sitting stop of him.

“I knew you were a lot of things, Sentinel Prime, but I never thought you’d be the kind that likes some pain while ‘facing,” Bumblebee said lowly, barely closing his digits around the spike he slowly dragged it up and down the length. The spike gave a twitch and hips bucked upward for more contact but he kept up the ghostly caresses, tracing the seams.

The bound bot opened his mouth plates to argue he was not enjoying it, that his cooling fans were not on high and were trying to cool down his overheated systems, but secretly he was enjoying this. He tried fighting the impending pleasure of it, resisting the urge to buck his hips upward, swallowing back the whimper when the servo drew back. No, it was too little too soon! He hadn’t felt the touch from another mech in vorns save for his own! He needed this! He was prepared to drop his planet-sized ego and beg for more but he didn’t have to when he felt something slick and wet brush over the tip of his spike, cleaning up the drops of transfluid. It took him a fraction of a klik to realize it had been a glossia and despite knowing he would be punished, jerked his hips up as high as he could, desperate to feel more.

Baby blue optics narrowed and a servo came out, roughly gripping the base of the spike he allowed the electrical charge to run through and delivered a shock painful enough to make the larger mech yelp in surprise and pain. “I call the shots here, Sentinel, not you. Try that again and I will leave you here charged up and no way to overload. Got it?” he threatened lowly. The Prime let out a moaning whimper but it wasn’t the answer he was looking for so Bee tightened his grip, using it to keep the hips from bucking up and growled out, “What was that?”

“I-I understand—sir!” he panted, stabilizers trembling but forced himself not to move his hips. Sentinel felt his faceplates heat up when he felt a slick wetness dripping out but it wasn’t from his spike; it was coming from his valve. That painful shock had hurt, but it felt so good as well. Pitt, if he didn’t think the minibot was bluffing he’d be trying to drive his spike deep into his mouthplates and accept whatever punishment he had planned.

“Good mech.” Not that Bee had a problem taking a spike into his mouth, but he didn’t want the fragger to think he was in charge right now, or that he was letting him off easy. Relaxing his grip just a bit he leaned down and, once more, licked at the drops of transfluid. It was still the oily, bitter taste he remembered from the others but there was so much he was having a hard time trying to swallow it all down. It was also clear the Prime was getting off on it, jerking his limbs in an effort to get out of his restraints and trying hard not to buck his hips deeper into his mouth. Stroking the base of the spike firmly, the minibot scout allowed the tip past his lip plates and sucked, moaning lowly as he felt the heady drops flow down into his tank but he pulled back when the hips jerked upward, trying to drive the spike deeper. Quickly pulling off he didn’t give any warning as he tightened his grip on the spike and once more shocked Sentinel. Once he was certain he learned his lesson he went back to licking and sucking. This time the hips didn’t even try to force the spike in deeper.

_‘So he_ can _learn,’_ Bumblebee thought to himself, sucking the dark blue spike. He was disappointed it wasn’t that big, in fact it was smaller than Optimus’ own spike but he had to remind himself he was here to make this fragger apologize for insulting his team. _‘But, I can’t believe that he gets off on pain.’_ It was such a highly arousing thought process Bee moaned and took the spike deeper, sucking harder his free servo moved down the length of his frame, stroking the heated panel between his own stabilizers. Moaning lowly the minibot alternated between hard and fast, feeling the Prime’s charge build up then purposely backed off, letting the both of them calm before going at it again. Surprisingly, Sentinel didn’t try to force his spike deeper but he could hear the painful whine of his fans as they struggled to keep him from overheating. Deciding to show a little bit of mercy to the slagger that made his life cycle a nightmare, Bee pulled off the heavily pressurized spike with a wet pop, groaning as the frame trembled in pleasure he licked the transfluid from his lip plates.

“I bet you wanna overload… don’t you,” Bee purred darkly, pulling himself up onto the berth so he was straddling the other mech’s lap he positioned himself so his own cod piece was pressing down on the spike and leaned forward, bracing his servos just beneath the Elite Guard insignia. It took all he had not to moan when the hips bucked slightly before stilling. “I can’t hear you.”

“Nngh… y-yes, sir…” Sentinel said in an abnormally quiet tone, trying to control his frame but he was still trembling hard enough to make some of his armor plating rattle. “I… I want… to… overload! … please, sir…”

“I like hearing you beg, makes my system warm up nicely,” the yellow minibot purred, slowly sitting he dragged his servos down the larger mech’s front, digits roughly tracing transformation seams and making him hiss at the rough treatment but the gray spike with the dark blue biolights dribbled even more transfluid. Smirking Bee began rocking his own frame, rubbing and grinding against the trapped spike as though he was really riding it. He could feel lubricant rapidly pooling beneath his panel, threatening to spill out from the seams and his own spike was pressing painfully against his cod piece. Unfortunately, due to his frame type, he couldn’t do much but the Prime’s optics never looked away once, whining under his vents and hips bucking up. The scout smirked and leaned back, digging his digits into the seams of his upper stabilizers he ground down onto Sentinel’s lap as hard as he could. “Oh Primus, overload, you slagger. I wanna see you overload all over yourself,” Bumblebee growled, trying in vain to keep his own systems from overloading himself. That would ruin his payback!

Sentinel didn’t bother to say anything, and while he was disappointed Bumblebee wasn’t punishing him for answering, he was more than eager to obey him. Bending his stabilizers as much as he could, he bucked his hips up, causing the minibot to curse but he had the satisfaction of having his spike being roughly caressed between their plating, sending a mix of pain and pleasure through his sensory network but having to deal with being overcharged and unable to release twice, when he felt the urge to overload he did with a shout, his entire frame arching upward, jostling the mech atop of him and cried out again as he dug his digits even deeper into his transformation seams. The overload seemed to last for deca-cycles before he fell back onto the berth, venting hard and heavy in an attempt to assist his cooling fans from burning out. Parts of his system were forced to be rebooted but he didn’t care, he didn’t even care as he felt his transfluid coating his chassis or how it was beginning to seep into the gaps of his plating, making him filthy but he didn’t care about that.

Bumblebee was venting slowly, looking down at the Prime and the way the silvery fluids stained his plating. Oh Primus, he was tempted to reveal his own heavy spike and add to the mess but he leaned down and waited until his optics focused on him. “Now… about that apology,” he told him.

Apologize? It took his processor a few kliks to remember what the minibot was talking about. Oh. Right. Now he remembered. Once again, he was fighting the urge to say anything but maybe the little glitch had a point. Optimus had been covering for him since his days at the academy and so far, he and his team had been able to stand up to Megatron of all bots and survive! But just as he was about to do that he stopped. The Bumbler had said if he didn’t behave, he would be stung and his systems was still singing from the intense overload. So… if he insulted Optimus and his team of mere maintenance bots… He didn’t bother to suppress the shiver that raced up his backstrut, twisting his servos in his restraints.

“I’m sorry…” he said lowly, watching the smirk grow on the yellow mech’s faceplates but he knew it wouldn’t last long. “… sorry that your part of the worse team ever.” The smirk immediately fell from but his was growing. “I meant what I said earlier! Optimus will never be worthy enough to be called a Prime! That medic is so ancient he should jump into a smelting pit along with Ultra Magnus! That giant glitch is no better than a drone! And that ninja, its no wonder he went into hiding for being such a failure! And you… the only thing a minibot is good for is for a quick frag.”

The speedster was as still as a statue, the hateful, cruel words echoing in his processor. This… This—slagger! His servos were about to transform into stingers and give him such a shock but he stopped when he felt him tense under him, feeling his spike swell in anticipation. Bumblebee wasn’t a genius like Bulkhead, but he wasn’t stupid. Closing his optics, he slowly climbed off the Prime.

“W-What are you doing?” Blue optics watched the scout as he walked over to the other side of his quarters, taking a cleaning cloth and cleaning at his plating he moaned lowly as he watched him rub between his stabilizers. He braced himself when he looked at him but his optics widen as he turned and began heading to the door. “Where the Pitt are you going?!”

“You were never going to apologize to me or anyone else. You’ll never care about anyone but yourself,” Bee said calmly without looking at him. “I’m done with you.”

“What?!” He was just going to leave him here to suffer?? A small part of his processor warned him that he was treading dangerous grounds but he didn’t care as he cursed the minibot, his creators, his creator’s creators and his team. He even cursed his own team, struggling to snap his restraints. He never heard the transformation or the sharp crackle of electricity. He felt as though one of the restraints on his servo was about to give when something almost sharp force its way into his valve and cried out as he was shocked from the inside. His frame seemed to light up from the charge, cooling fans immediately snapping onto high, errors rapidly filling his HUD but his spike had immediately pressurized and his systems were pending an immense overload. As sudden as it happened it stopped, leaving him a withering mess on the berth.

“Admit it, Sentiaft. You’re a mech who gets off on pain because you know deep down you deserve it,” the Autobot said coldly, the tip of his stingers still probing at the wet valve. “You insult everybot else because you’re jealous and know you’ll never be half the mech they are.” Hearing him vent heavily for air Bumblebee frowned and purposely pulled his stinger out but gave his anterior node a small shock, listening to him yelp sharply. “I said, admit it,” he growled.

“Y… Y-Yes! It’s all t-true!” he forced himself to say, his systems still overcharged he couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed that the inside of his stabilizers was soaked from overloading, or that his spike was still dripping transfluid over his chassis.

“And?”

“I… I was never meant to be a Prime, and I had no reason to insult Optimus or his team.” Oh, merciful Primus, he didn’t give a slag about his ego as he forced his stabilizers as wide as he could and looked at the smaller mech, silently begging him to frag him. “Please… p-punish me?”

It would be so easy to do so, to make him his own pleasure drone, but frag it he still wanted this slagger to apologize! Letting his stingers transform back into his servos, Bumblebee leaned forward, placing his servos on either side of his hips and gave him a cold, hard stare. “Tomorrow, you will apologize to Optimus and the rest of my team, but you’re also going to apologize for treating your own team like the slag you are. And it had better be sincere… or else.” He smirked as the larger mech trembled but nodded, swearing to do so. “Good… one more thing.” Pulling back, the minibot wrapped his servo around the pressurized spike, tracing the biolights on the side he squeezed the base tightly and plunged his digits into the valve. It didn’t take much to make the pathetic prime arch into his touch, whimpering for more, his release so close he could almost taste it. “If you do a good job… I _might_ reward you. Do you understand?” Sentinel couldn’t answer but he forced himself to say “yes” and the scout allowed his own charge to flare up and once more shocked his bound captive. Watching him lose control, watching as transfluid and lubricant flowed from him in such a heavy dose Bee couldn’t take it. Removing his servos, he allowed his cod piece to retract and jerked at his own heavy spike. It didn’t take long for him to shoot transfluid over the other mech, painting his chassis with more of the silvery fluids.

“Ahh… f-frag… oh frag…” the minibot vented heavily, hips jerking as he bucked into his servo, feeling a bit sated. Sitting there he looked down and saw that Sentinel had crashed hard enough to be knocked into temporary stasis. “Pathetic.” Couldn’t even hold out a bit longer, but he honestly didn’t care at this moment. Climbing off him he once more picked up the cloth and cleaned himself off then dropped it to the floor. He was tempted to leave the slagger tied down but instead he removed the restraints and left the SteelHaven. Only tomorrow would tell if sentinel actually learned his lesson, but at least he got some payback for his insults.

_‘I still gotta get rid of my charge,’_ Bee thought to himself as he transformed and drove back to the warehouse. No matter, he could ask one of the others to help him out.

* * *

The following morning found a not-so-surprising visit from Sentinel Prime and everybot braced themselves from an outburst of how they were nothing more than mere maintenance bots. However, no one seemed to notice how tense and fidgety he seemed as he looked around the assembled teams.

“Optimus! I have something to say to you,” he started, walking over to the other Prime with determination in every step.

Optimus vented deeply he watched his former friend marched up to him, not even wondering why he was upset at him this time. “Yes, Sentinel?”

“…” He looked at the red and blue mech for almost a full breem, making the rest of the Autobots shift uneasily on their peds. It looked like he was having difficulty trying to process what he wanted to say even as his servos curled into fists. “I… am… s… s…!” Primus, why was this so slagging hard!? Releasing a strong burst of air, he looked to the side but his optics caught sight of one particular mech who merely narrowed his own optics. It took everything the dark blue Prime had to ignore the command to activate his cooling fans and slowly faced Optimus once more.

“Sentinel, are you alright?”

“… I’m sorry.” It was unnaturally quiet in the warehouse except for the nature documentary still commenting about the life cycle of the monarch butterfly. The silence was unnatural and Sentinel couldn’t help but snap at the bots, making them jump slightly. “What? Didn’t you gli-er, bots hear me?!”

“W-We heard you, but why are you apologizing?”

“Look, I still don’t agree that you should have been named Prime, but so far you and your team have been able to do things no one on the Elite Guard have been able to do. You’ve gone against Megatron and survived, for Primus’ sake!” he said loudly, trying very hard not to full-out yell. “You’re—the better bot, and your team is lucky to have you as their commanding officer.”

Optimus could not believe what he had just heard and thought for a klik that his audio receivers were damaged, but everything was functioning perfectly. It took a few kliks to reboot his own processor before he could even think of a response. “T-Thank you, Sentinel… but I like to think that I’m lucky enough to have a team I can also call my friends.”

“Yeah, w-well, don’t mention it. Ever!” Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked off; once he was gone all the bots were talking to each other in low tones, wondering what that had been about so no one noticed as one of the mechs left to go after him.

It didn’t take Sentinel long to return to his quarters but once the doors were closed he allowed his cooling fans to turn on, vented out the heated air he had trapped in his systems. Oh Primus, that had been more difficult than he had thought but seeing the threatening look that mech had given him had started a delightful charge once more. Forcing himself to his berth he laid down and offlined his optics, trailing his servo down his frame he tried to mimic what was done last night but it wasn’t the same. Instead he gave the command to retract his panels and began to stroke his spike as it pressurized into his servo.

_‘Uhn! It’s—not enough!’_ he grunted to himself, moving harder and faster but it wasn’t the same. He never heard a knock on his door, didn’t hear it open then close, didn’t even feel the intruder climb onto his berth until he felt a servo covering his own, making his optics online in a flash.

“Wha-Bumbler??”

“Not the sincerest apology, but you did apologize,” Bumblebee smirked as he continued to stroke the spike, feeling it swell even more. “I suppose you deserve a reward for that much.” Sitting up he allowed his panel to pull back and shifted forward, guiding the rigid cable inside. It was still pretty good and although he was the one being spiked, he was the one giving out orders. Sentinel didn’t care about rank or that this minibot was suspended for dropping a building on him, all he cared about was the pleasure but as he tried to reach out and grab the slender hips, to pull him down his servos were roughly pinned down.

“I didn’t say you could touch me, Senti _aft_ ,” Bee hissed threateningly but it shot a surge of pleasure right to the Prime’s interface system.

“Y-Yes, sir.” Obediently he kept his servos off the yellow minibot and moaned as he was ridden like an equinoid, enjoying the powerful sensations.

* * *

Something was very wrong, but despite the numerous reports Ultra Magnus did not understand it. Decepticon sightings were at an all-time low, but there was a strange current in the air among the teams of both Optimus Prime and Sentinel Prime. He supposes he could call it good news that the two Primes were no longer yelling at one another like a pair of immature sparklings, but something was not right. And there was still no word about the missing cargo.

Sitting back the Magnus rubbed at his optics with his digits, setting the datapad down _. ‘Perhaps I should speak with the mechs one by one,’_ he thought to himself. But tomorrow, he was developing a processor ache right now and knew he needed to recharge and allow his systems to shut down for a few deca-cycles. Getting up from his work-station the Supreme Commander moved to the other side of the room and laid down upon his berth. No sooner had he offlined his optics was he in recharge mode. He never heard the door to his room open or close, nor did he hear the soft peds of a mech silently walking up to his berth.

_‘What the slag am I doing?! This is Ultra fragging Magnus!!’_ the mech shouted to himself but he couldn’t stop himself as he silently pulled himself atop the berth, moving as silently as possible. He paused when the Magnus stirred, or when his systems made a sound, but he was deep in recharge. A small servo reached out, gently tracing the Autobot Elite Guard insignia on his chassis but it began moving down, tracing transformation seams along the way. Soon the other servo joined the first and delved into gaps to stroke at tense wires and cables, a grin passing over his derma plating. The caressing moved down and the helm lowered until he was nuzzling the blue and white plating of the larger mech’s pelvic plating. It was warm to the touch but the more he caressed it the more he was imaging the spike that lay just beneath the protective plating and it made his own system begin to heat up. The mech began to lick at the seams of the blue panel, digits pressing into sensitive seams, causing the Magnus to start shifting, as though resisting the urge to wake up just in case this was some elaborate dream.

_‘Just a bit more,’_ the minibot moaned lowly, probing the center seam he pulled back when the cod piece split open and he got his first glimpse of a partially pressurized spike. Larger than any other he had tried so far, the mech paused, staring at it but the hunger growing inside him wanted to know what such a spike felt like thrusting up deep inside him.

_‘Oh Primus... can’t believe I’m doing this.’_ But any resistance he was feeling vanished. As much as he wanted to ride the spike into overload, he wanted to see it fully pressurized. Sliding his servo up the thick stabilizer he just barely managed to wrap his digits around it and stroked firmly. It was a dark silvery-blue color and the thick band of biolights on either side lit up the matching ring just beneath the tip. The scout leaned forward, dragging the flat of his glossia over the tip and moaned louder at the taste of transfluid. The more he stroked the more transfluid was leaking out, Bumblebee didn’t hold back as he chased after the drops, licking them up and feeling the spike pressurized even more.

The larger Autobot could not remember the last time he had a dream this good, he was always so busy the moment he was able to catch any bit of recharge was dedicated to just that, but he wasn’t going to ignore it. He let out a quiet groan, frame shifting his servo reached out and brushed over smooth plating of another bot. He didn’t have a designation at the moment, but there was no denying that this bot knew what they were doing. Digits reached down, tracing the invisible seams of the helm and back of the neck cables. The bot seemed much smaller than his own frame type but he let out an even louder groan as derma wrapped around the tip and sucked, a slick glossia probing at the slit. He couldn’t help but jerk his hips up and stroked the back of the helm in apology when the bot let out a startled and muffled cry.

Bee purred at the soft petting and continued to suckle at the spike, swallowing the transfluid. Although bigger the scout tried to take more into his mouth, stroking what he couldn’t. ‘Maybe… if I can get him to overload… I can leave and he’ll never know,’ he thought to himself, reaching down to rub at his panel but sadly his systems said otherwise. His systems pinged that he was starting to overheat and lubricant was building behind his panel but the hunger to ‘face was so strong he couldn’t wait. Slowly he pulled back, giving the spike one final lick he moved up so he was straddling the larger mech’s lap, moaning lowly he lowered himself down and rubbed his bared valve against the thick cable, his lubricant coating it. “O-Oh Primus…” he moaned lowly, grinding down even as the hips began bucking up; black and yellow servos slid over his burning hot frame, the cod piece pulled back and his spike emerged into waiting servos. He knew he should keep quiet, just in case anyone heard them from the hall, but the scout didn’t care as he continued to grind down onto the spike while stroking himself rapidly, trying chase an overload that was just out of reach.

Large servos reached up and kneaded the smaller hips, rocking the smaller frame atop him. The bared valve felt so hot, Ultra Magnus wanted nothing more than to push his spike in and feel everything but there was a low keening cry that was pulling him out of his sleep cycle. No, he didn’t want this wonderful stimulation to end but as he began the wake-up cycle, he realized the pleasure wasn’t fading in the slightest. He could feel the wet heat of an unprotected valve grinding and rocking against his spike, the oily drops of lubricant mixing with his own transfluid, the feel of slender hips burning against his palms and the almost desperate keening cries of the bot atop of him. His servos clutched at the hips, forcing them to still and onlined his optics. It seemed to take vorns before he could see clearly but he was not expecting the bot atop of him to be the minibot scout himself.

“Bu… ah… Bumble-… -bee?” he called out to him.

“U-Ultra Magnus…” Fragging slag! He didn’t mean to wake him up and he let out a low whine as he forced his own servos to stop. “I… I…” Oh fragging Pitt, he might as well just tell him. “I… I’m sorry…”

“Bumblebee… why?” He really should have gotten him to get off his lap so they could discuss this properly but his systems were still trying to fully online. The yellow mech told him about the high-grade the twins had found in the cargo bay of the SteelHaven and how the cubes had tasted different but since then he had been on a high interface drive that he couldn’t stop even if he wanted. Through it all he kept apologizing but his hips tried to continued their grinding motion despite the firm grip the blue and white servos had on him.

“You, must resist it,” the Magnus grunted but there was no denying how arousing it felt. He forced himself to sit up and wrapped his servos around the smaller bot, holding him tightly. The scout tensed but leaned into him, trembling slightly. “Those cubes, were hidden for a reason. They were never to be keep in the cargo bay, they… they were never meant to be consumed.”

“W-What do you me-me-mean?” Bumblebee stuttered quietly, clinging to the larger mech tightly.

“… I am not completely certain, but there had been rumors that the Decepticon known as Swindle, had been creating and selling illegal energon that causes the bot who ingests it to enter an intense heat. I was taking those cubes, to be studied back on Cybertron.” His servos continued to gentle stroke the trembling backplates, venting softly. He knew he should have told Optimus about the missing cubes, but then again is Sentinel had stored the cubes properly this would not have happened. He was taken from his thought process when he felt the smaller mech stop trembling, his small servos sliding around his broad frame to press against his chassis. He loosened his grip and was about to ask if he was alright but he was stunned when instead he leaned up and kissed him.

The scout wanted to ask if he and the jettwins drank the cubs then why weren’t they ‘facing with the others? Was it because he was a minibot and they had each other? He wanted to, but the heat demanded satisfaction and he could not say no. Kissing him was different, not in an unpleasant way but very different from the others. Nipping at his bottom derma plating he pulled back and was delighted to see his faceplates were slightly flushed, optics large and bright. “I’m still really hot… I bet, you can help me,” he purred lowly, sitting back he allowed their spikes to rub against one another’s, causing the both of them to moan.

Even his spike felt good rubbing against his own, allowing their transfluid to mingle. Magnus would have fallen back onto his berth had he not caught himself so he was reclined but with his servos keeping him up he could only watch as the smaller mech continued to stroke their spikes, tracing the biolights. “Bum-ahh! Bumble-bee… we s-shouldn’t… oh Primus… doing this,” he groaned. He was embarrassed to say he was getting even more aroused even more so with the lingering aftermath of his “dream” earlier.

Bee didn’t answer with words, instead he slowly lifted himself on his knees and taking the Magnus’ thick spike into his servo, guided it to his valve as he slowly sat back down. There was some resistance as the tip pushed past the soft folds, but venting softly the brightly colored scout rocked his hips as he sank down, taking the thick cable deeper inside. It was so big, it set off every single node inside, but he leaned back on his own servos and smirked, rocking his own hips. The Magnus’ optics immediately moved down and he let out a low groan as he watched his spike slid in and out.

“No bot has to know that you’re helping me with my “problem”,” the scout purred, moaning deeply with each slide of his hips. “And I know you want this… we’re just, helping each other out.” Sliding back down he groaned as the spike pressed in so deeply, there was a faint indention in the minibot’s lower abdominal plating due to the spike’s thickness. “Oh Magnus… so big, it’s splitting me wide open!” he moaned lowly, feeling the rush of fluids being forced out as he continued riding him, tightening his grip on the mech’s stabilizers.

How could something that looked and felt so good, be so wrong? Every time the Supreme Commander tried to say something his glossia would go numb, unable to say anything but there was no denying that he was getting off on it. The valve was so wet his spike had no trouble to slide in and out, fluids flowing out to stain their plating. His gaze moved up to see the smaller spike bouncing in time with the hips, leaving a smear of transfluid along the black plating. He felt as though he was being hypnotized by the yellow biolights, groaning as he watched drops of transfluid slide down the length only to mingle with the rest of the fluids. He was surprised when he witnessed his servo reaching out and began stroking said spike, rubbing his digit over the tip. The cry the smaller mech let out made him engine rumble deeply in his chassis, the vibrating spreading through his frame and into the one atop of him. He shouldn’t be doing this… but, he couldn’t stop.

Bumblebee offlined his optics, letting his helm fall back as he cried out, jerking his hips into the servo. Everything about him was big, even as his digit teased the opening of his spike felt so good; hips tried moving faster over the other mech’s hips, hissing at the slight sting of pain but he wanted him to go as deeply as he could, eager to fragged hard and heavy. He was dimly aware of being moved, of feeling his backplates being pressed into the berth but he reached up and clung to the larger mech as he pressed into him, wrapping his stabilizers around his waist. “M-Magnus… more!” he cried out, trying to arch into him but let out a keening cry as the servo on his spike was removed.

“Touch yourself,” the mech groaned to him, optics dark as he leaned over him with his servos planted just above his helm, gripping the edges of his berth. “I want to watch you, overload from your touch.” It was difficult to keep the smaller mech from grinding against him, begging for more, but he forced his own hips still. “That’s an order, soldier.”

The scout couldn’t help but tremble at being ordered like that, in such a deep, commanding designation, he muttered a “yes, sir” and onlined his optics just as he wrapped his servo around his spike. He meant to start off slow, to tease himself and give his commanding officer a show, but the not-so-quiet roar of their cooling fans and the heat of their combined frames was too much. “Like this, s-sir?” Bee panted as he rapidly stroked his stiff cable, rubbing at the tip roughly.

“Yes, like that,” he groaned and once more began rocking his own hips, fragging the minibot with steady, deep thrusts, grunting quietly each time their hips connected. The cables within the valve would tighten so nicely, as though trying to keep him inside, fluids gushing out each time he pushed in. But watching the way the small servos stroked at his spike, the way they sped up then slowed down wasn’t enough. Slowly the Magnus back, purposely dragging his servos down the smaller frame, tracing transformation seams, the large blue and white servos unwound the stabilizers from around his waist and pushed them towards the brightly colored chassis, carefully folding him in half. This new angle allowed him to thrust in not only deeper, drawing out a louder cry from the smaller Autobot, but it also caused the valve to tighten around him in delicious pain. “Don’t overload yet, not until I say you can,” he forced himself to say, grunting as he dropped his hips down harder than before, jarring the smaller frame and making the scout cry out louder each time.

Yellow servos rapidly stroked and tugged at his slender black spike, squeezing tightly when he felt his overload ready to burst free then continued. The pleasure and pain was so good, hissing as his own transfluid managed to slip through the gaps of his plating to touch his overheated protoform. Bumblebee was keening loudly, struggling to keep his optics online much less not overload, but yet once more he could feel his electrical charge building up, sparks dancing from his digits over his spike, begging to be released. He arched his backstrut as the larger mech shifted and his spike pushed in at a different angle, gliding across his overly sensitive nodes in a way that every bit of circuitry spark. “U-Ultra Magnus, s-sir!! Need—to overload!!” he cried out, gasping for air as his cooling fans struggled to keep him from overheating.

“… overload for me, my soldier.” It was a site to behold, the way the Autobot scout cried out in relief as he overloaded in his servos, the way the transfluid splattered between their frames, staining the insignias on their chassis, stroking the stabilizers as they trembled in his grip; the image was burned deeply into his processor. But he didn’t have time to dwell on it as he felt his own painful pressure to overload himself, and he was determined to do so but in the smaller bot. Leaning over him, the Supreme Commander released the stabilizers and instead gripped the yellow slender hips, pulling back until only the tip of his spike remained, then slammed in hard enough to create sparks. The growl of pleasure he let out was easily drowned out by the lusty cry begging for more, so he began thrusting harder and faster, forcing his spike in and grinding their hips together each time. The Magnus didn’t realize he had overload himself until he felt copious amounts of fluids seep out, coating their plating but it wasn’t enough for either of them. He—They both needed much more.

Bumblebee cried out loudly, not caring that he sounded like some sort of pleasure bot. After feeling the larger mech overload he was disappointed that he wanted more but he didn’t waste any time as he pulled out only to force him onto his chassis and pulled his hips up to slam back in. “Yes!! Yes, frag me, sir!! Make me overload!!” he cried out to him, clawing at the berth with his digits. It was strange though, parts of his frame were beginning to hurt such as his backplates and his horns, but it was hard to describe why. The pain was momentarily forgotten when the magnus leaned down and ran his glossia over one of them, making him let out an excited mew of pleasure. “D-Don’t stop, sir!!” he cried out, pushing back into the hips, trying desperately to chase after another overload. The Magnus didn’t disappoint as he did so, even biting down on said appendage. The sharp cry of ecstasy could no doubt be heard outside the very ship itself.

The two mechs continued fragging for an endless amount of time, as though they were caught up in the same intense heat but neither seemed to care as they continued to chase after countless overloads. The brightly colored scout enjoyed being taken by his commander, being told when to hold back or to touch himself, but he also begged the Magnus to go harder and faster, to touch him where he needed it the most. It seemed as though the more Bee interfaced, the more energized he felt but when he tried to question it, he was engulfed by an intense heated pleasure. Licking his lip plates, he looked up at the Magnus, holding his stabilizer tightly to his chassis and stroking his spike which never seemed to lose his pressure. Like with the others his electrical charge was dancing along their plating, sending stinging pleasure to both their systems. The commander was growling now, slamming into the soaked valve, grinding their hips together, then pulled out until only the tip remained only to repeat the process. He ignored the warning that he was getting low on fuel reserves and leaned down, kissing the mech and growled as he eagerly kissed him back. He could now taste the electrical charge, enjoying the way sparks danced along his plating, something he enjoyed immensely. Something clicked and gone was the finesse, slamming hard enough to slid the smaller frame against the berth. The lusty cries were now growing more frantic, clinging tightly they fell into another intense overload, increasing the mess of various fluids.

The Supreme Commander was venting so hard, he knew something was wrong as he fell back, warnings now flashing in his HUD that his levels were at dangerously low levels. He was too weak to do anything even as he felt a heated frame press into him, optics glowing eerily bright. He tried to reach out to him but he barely had the energy to so much as lift a digit. He couldn’t speak as the slender form once more climbed atop of him, radiating with an energy that set his own systems off. Despite being so low on fluids, his interface array was pinging in response.

Bumblebee was surprised he could remember his own designation but everything else was forgotten except for the powerful hunger he felt. He wanted more, so much more and if he had to, he would take it from this mech until there was nothing left. “Give it to me,” he purred darkly as he settled himself over his lap, moaning lowly as he allowed his pressurized spike to slid once more inside, glossia licking over his sharpened denta. “Give me… everything.” He had a feeling this mech wouldn’t last long, maybe another overload or two, but his processor told him of other mechs who would be willing to give him all that he craved. Oh yes… he would enjoy this very much.

**Author’s Note:** First, I would like to apologize to everyone for such the long wait. Long story short, I had some pretty invasive surgery in October and as such not only could I not go back to work, I was limited in doing certain things and the healing was not pleasant. I couldn’t focus on writing no matter how hard I tried. Then I started getting cabin fever staying home for days on end. I really wanted to have this updated by Halloween but that fell through, and here we are with Thanksgiving behind us. So again, I am sorry for such a long wait.

JazzTheTiger, I hope you like the conclusion of your request. I enjoyed the part with Sentinel only ‘cuz I kinda picture him being the acting arrogant types that secretly wants to be dominated and kept rewriting the last bit with Ultra Magnus because I had no idea how to really need it but seeing your final design of incubus Bee really inspired me. I wanted to add more but the idea of leaving it as a possibly cliffhanger, seems to add more to the plot. So again, sorry for such a long wait and I really do hope you enjoy it and thank you for requesting such a large request from me :)

_Next up:_ _BumblebeexOptimus Prime (RID verse)_


	16. Optimus PrimexBumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Optimus came back, Bumblebee was thrilled. But it makes him question the feelings he had about his former leader and whether or not this is the opportunity to finally confess his feelings to him.

**Disclaimer:** Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015 reboot) and everything related belongs to the rightful company Hasbro. I am in no way shape or form making money off this.

**Author’s Notes:** When Optimus came back, Bumblebee was thrilled. But it makes him question the feelings he had about his former leader and whether or not this is the opportunity to finally confess his feelings to him.

Title: Since You’ve Been Gone

Pairing: BumblebeexOptimus Prime (RID verse)

Request: Wolfsonic (AO3)

It didn’t matter how long it had been since he came back. Bumblebee felt like if he so much as blinked, his mentor would vanish and he would be alone once more. But that wasn’t true, while he didn’t have his dysfunctional family with him, his chaotic team was close enough. Yet, Optimus Prime was _here_ , he was really here and not some vision only he could see! Oh, he was happy--thrilled that his mentor was back! He would show him that he was fit to be the leader of this team and together they would round up the rest of the escaped Decepticon prisoners! And yet… the former scout would avoid the returned Prime as much as he was able.

The yellow Camaro vented quietly from his spot that overlooked the junkyard. He had left once more, claiming it was his turn for patrols but in reality, he was trying to hide from the one mech he could not face right now. “What’s wrong with me? I’m acting like-like a lovesick sparkling,” he said to himself only to frown. “But that’s exactly what’s wrong with me… scrap!” When did everything get so slagging complicated?

The day that Optimus Prime returned, Bumblebee thought he was dreaming. The last time he saw him was when he had willing jumped into the Well of the AllSpark, allowing new sparks to be created and restoring life to their once dead home world. His loss had affected everybot greatly, but with bots coming back they all separated to continue one with their new lives, now free of war. He was happy to be accepted onto the Cybertron Police force, quickly becoming a lieutenant and was soon showing a new cadet how things were done. He thought that he was going to spend the remainder of his cycles on Cybertron but then the visions began happening. Optimus Prime needed his help, he needed him to find an operational Space Bridge and go back to Earth. He didn’t question in and while it went against the new High Council’s laws, he didn’t care. He just didn’t expect two tag-alongs to come with him.

_‘I swear, they both remind me of Jack and Miko at times,’_ he thought to himself. Even from his vantage point he could see two bots arguing with one another. He didn’t blame either of them, their personality directives clashed but they were still able to push past their differences and work together. So many adventures, new friends and alias made, and of course, new enemies as well. The vision would keep coming and for a moment, it felt like Optimus has never left. but then he did come and he was so happy to see him yet there had never been any time to tell him how he felt. Now with Megatronus gone, he had all the time in the world but he could not bring himself to tell the Prime how he felt. It was times like this he wished Arcee, Bulkhead, or even Ratchet were here so he had somebot to talk to about this. Venting deeply, the yellow mech turned but stopped short when he realized that he was not alone as he originally though. “Op-Optimus! I, uh, I didn’t see you there!” he stammered, wincing at how stupid he sounded right now.

“Bumblebee, is something wrong?” he asked calmly, deep vocalizer soothing but touched with concern.

“W-What do you mean by that?”

“I have noticed something different about you lately,” he said calmly and took a step towards him but stopped when the other mech tensed. “You appear to have been avoiding me, especially when I wish to speak with you.”

“No! I-I mean! I’ve just been busy, I mean after Megatronus’ defeat we haven’t found any sign of Steeljaw,” Bee quickly explained. It wasn’t necessarily a lie but he could not bring him to admit what was wrong.

“I see.” The larger mech didn’t seem to believe him but it didn’t stop him from moving closer and reaching out to rest his servo on his shoulder, watching the yellow doorwings twitch before stilling. “Bumblebee, if something is troubling you, I wish you would confine in me as you once did before.”

The lieutenant couldn’t help it as he gnawed on his lower lip plate, his processor fighting to tell him the truth but looking up at the silver faceplates, bright blue optics staring down at him, he found he couldn’t. Instead he chose the coward’s way out and it made his spark tighten painfully in his chassis.

“I… I need to go on patrol.” Looking away the smaller mech moved past the larger red and blue Prime, transformed once there was enough space, and drove off. He ignored the cry of his designation as he continued driving off, mirrors angling to watch him disappear the more distance he put between them. The painful pulse his spark gave tore at him but the Camaro just increased his speed.

The Prime was at a loss, he knew something was wrong with the former scout but he reused to tell him. Part of him wanted to go after him and make him tell him what was wrong, but he also wanted to wait and see if he would confine in him as he used to. Venting heavily, he continued looking at the direction the Autobot took off, wondering what he should do.

* * *

The woods were quiet around this time or day even as a yellow and black sports car made its way down the road, heavily tinted windows rolled up but the driver was listening to a station playing pop songs over the radio. The songs were brining memories of his last trip to Earth, and it would have made him smile if he was able to.

_‘I wonder… how they’re doing?’_ he asked himself. By the Primes, how long had it been since he last saw them? Two—no, five years now. Was Jack still working at KO Burger and dread it? Did Miko still listen to Slash Monkey and play her guitar? Was Raf still replacing pictures of the Autobots online with animated clips of a dancing monkey? Would it be okay if he went to see how they were doing? _‘No. They, moved on with their lives… just like us.’_ The last thing he wanted to do was interfere with what they were doing now, but it would be nice to see them once more-

Slamming on his brakes he came to a stop, facing the woods. For a quick klik the Autobot thought he had seen something just beyond the tree line, something dark but much too large to be an ordinary Earth creature. He knew he should call for back-up or report his sightings, but instead he drove off the road and into the woods.

After a bit the Camaro couldn’t drive anymore, so the bot transformed into his primary mode and quietly unspaced his Decepticon Hunter. Moving carefully and cautiously, Bumblebee scanned the area just in case. So far it was quiet and he wasn’t picking up any energy or heat signals. After about a joor of searching, the Autobot stopped in the middle of a small clearing and once more vented to himself.

“What’s wrong with me today? First, I avoid Optimus like-like he’s got comic rust, then I avoid him and ignore his attempts to help me by running away like a coward. And now I’m seeing things!” he ranted to himself, pacing the small area only to stop and look around before turning his faceplates to the sky. “And now I’m talking to myself… scrap.” Now he was thankful no one was here to listen to him but he placed his new weapon back in his subspace and made his way back to the road. He failed to notice optics waiting him from the underbrush, narrowing in anger.

It didn’t take Bee long to reach the road and making sure the coast was clear, transformed into his alt-mode and drove off. He was still certain that he had seen something but there was no indication that there was anything there. _‘Maybe I just need a decent recharge-’_ but he was interrupted by an incoming transmission. “Bumblebee, here.”

_::Lieutenant! Strongarm here, where are you, sir?::_

“I’m currently on patrol right now, is something wrong?”

_::Well, no… but when Optimus Prime said you were going on patrol I was concerned. According to our shift roster today is suppose to be Sideswipe’s turn to patrol.::_

“I know that but we can’t become too lax what with Steeljaw still lurking out here somewhere.”

_::But lieutenant-::_

“Look Strongarm, everything is fine. I’ll be at the junkyard soon, I… I needed to go for a drive. Just-” He was about to say more but he heard the sound of an engine coming up from behind, loud, powerful, and coming up fast; he had a split moment as he saw a blue-grayish vehicle coming right at him before he felt the powerful impact of the off-road vehicle smashed into him from behind. “Scrap!” he cursed as he managed to regain control and increase his speed.

_::Lieutenant!! Are y-::_

“Strongarm!! I need backup!!” he said, tires screeching as he rounded a curve. He had to be careful, going at such high speeds would spell danger to all involved but Steeljaw didn’t seem to care as he followed him closely, trying to hit him from behind but the Camaro would switch lanes or even brake, catching him off-guard. _‘Just one more curve and I’ll have a straight shot!!’_ It was so close, he could see it but as he slowed down to take the curve the car behind him didn’t and slammed into him, hard enough to nearly spin him into a full 360 spin. “S-Scrap!!” Bee cursed, struggling to gain control but he was having too much difficulty and smashed into the guard rail, tearing it up from the ground. The next thing he knew he was slammed into again, this time from the side and it was enough to shove him completely off the road and he soon found himself rolling down the steep incline, blacking out as the damage done to him caused his processor to crash, sending him into blissful darkness.

* * *

“Lieutenant!! Lieutenant Bumblebee, please come in!!” But there was no response except static on the other end. Strongarm felt her spark give a worried pulse but she refused to give up. She began rushing to the command center, wondering if she could get Fix-It to give her the location of Bumblebee’s last location when she nearly ran into another bot. “O-Optimus Prime, sir!!”

“At ease, Strongarm. What seems to be the problem?” he asked in concern, wondering why she looked so frighten.

“I-It’s Lieutenant Bumblebee, sir! I was speaking to him when I hear something on the other side, like a crash. Then he told me to call for back-up but I can’t seem to reach him. I keep calling him over our comm link but all I can hear is static,” she rambled before forcing herself to stop and nodded to him. “Sir, I think the lieutenant is in trouble and needs help!”

The Prime felt his optics widen and within his chassis, his spark gave a painful lurch. _‘Bumblebee…’_

“Sir? What do we do?”

Turning to face her once more he took a deep breath and nodding to her. “Gather the others and try to locate his last known position. I will let you know if I find anything.”

“But sir! Where are you going!?” The larger mech didn’t answer even as he began running and quickly transformed into a semi before taking off as fast as he could. The femme watched him go before running for the command center once more, worry making her spark pulse wildly in her chassis.

* * *

_‘Uhh… wha-ohh… what happened…?’_ Holy slag, why did his frame hurt so much? He read back the errors his HUD displayed and realization hit him, making him let out a low groan. The Autobot remembered driving off after a failed investigation that revealed nothing, only to be slammed into from behind by an all-too familiar vehicle. “Steeljaw…”

“Finally awake, lieutenant?”

Bumblebee very slowly cracked open his optics, letting them adjust to the light before focusing in on the mech standing before him. Sure enough, the wolf-like Decepticon was standing before him, his Decepticon Hunter in his servo. The only reason the Autobot wasn’t getting to his peds was that his system was still recovering from his earlier accident, and he was currently sitting on the ground, servos bound behind him with his own stasis cuffs.

“Steeljaw… as always, it’s not a pleasure to see you again,” he said in a low tone. He tried activating his comm link but flinched when all he heard was static.

“Now now, it that anyway to treat your savior?” he grinned at him.

“Savior? You rammed into me, twice, and then you ran me off the road—literally!” he yelled at him. “What do you want, anyway?”

“You should know that already, but I suppose I should begin by asking what happened to that traitor.”

Bumblebee blinked before remembering that Steeljaw had not been witness to the Decepticon’s demise. “Megatronus is gone, but something tells me that’s not the real reason you tried to get my attention.”

“Very astute of you! While I am glad that the traitor was dealt with, it has not stopped my plans on claiming this primitive planet as a planet where Decepticons can call their own. With me, as their leader and saving grace.”

“That doesn’t explain why I’m here.” Bee was leaning against a tree and was trying to see if he could somehow break the stasis cuffs but they were made of much stronger material. “I’m only to ask you one more time, why am I here?”

Steeljaw frowned and narrowed his optics as he held the weapon out, pointing the glowing blade at his captive. “Be careful what you say, Autobot. I’m not the one currently bound and stripped of his weapons. But yes, there is a reason why you’re still alive.” He pulled the weapon back and began to pace in front of him, preparing his monologue. “You see, you Autobots seem intent on ruining my effects in trying to find a place to call our own. We are clearly not wanted on Cybertron but instead of letting us have this world you would rather protect those organic creatures and seek to send us back to prison. I admit, I have committed several crimes-”

“Only “several”?” the yellow and black mech scoffed but the other mech ignored him as he continued on.

“I suppose what I am saying is, I am here to offer you a deal.” Stopping before her he knelt down and once more gave him a toothy grin. “You can have this world and its organic life, in fact I’m sure I can easily persuade the others to leave and find a far more hospitable planet to call home.”

“Right… and what about us? We just forget you all existed and continue on like this never happened?”

“Exactly! I’m sure you and your team are missing Cybertron so very much, I-I mean we, get to begin a new life-cycle and you never have to hear from us again. What do you say, Bumblebee?”

The Autobot felt an ice-cold chill race up his spinal strut at the way the Con said his designation, and to be honest he still didn’t understand what he and his team would get out of this “so-called” deal, everything was in his favor! He didn’t even need to waste another astrosecond to think of his response.

“No deal, Steeljaw. You and the others have to answer for your crimes against Cybertron and the bots, and it may not seem like much but Earth is also my home and I won’t let you or anybot else destroy it. And even if I did agree to your deal, how do I know you won’t come back and try to take over Earth once we’re gone? So again, no deal!”

Steeljaw was quiet as he stared at the Autobot, even as he slowly stood to his full-height but there was a cold fury building in his optics. In his servo the Decepticon Hunter began to glow, energy crackling over the glowing blade angrily, like a lightning storm ready to strike. “I really hoped we could have reached an agreement, but I was sadly mistaken. Good-bye, _lieutenant!_ ” With a snarl the Decepticon made to slash at the Autobot but at the last moment Bumblebee immediately threw himself to the side, dodging the sparking weapon and immediately lashed out with his ped, connecting sharply with the Con’s joint. Steeljaw yelped in pain, losing his center of balance but he hit the ground hard when the same ped lashed out once more, knocking him onto the ground and sending the weapon flying out of his grip. With no one holding it it reverted back to its more manageable size.

The Autobot managed to get to his peds and ran to where the weapon had fallen, hoping that he could grab it, and use it to cut off his stasis cuffs but he cried out as a servo grabbed his ped, making him fall forward on his chassis. He tried kicking free but the other mech dodged it and angrily swiped at his stabilizer, sharp digits slashing at the plating and making Bee yelp in pain. “Slag, that hurt!!” he cursed.

“It’s going to hurt a lot more!” Steeljaw hissed, raising his other servo to finish him off but Bumblebee didn’t give him a chance. He managed to get up and helm-butted him in the faceplate, wincing as the back of his helm connected but the Con yelped as he fell back. Once more Bee scrambled to reach the discarded weapon but his injured stabilizer refused to support his weight and he fell short of reaching it.

_‘Scrap! What else can possibly go wrong?!’_ he shouted at himself, struggling to reach his weapon but a ped angrily kicked him in the side, causing the yellow mech to curl in slightly on himself in pain. He wanted to curse as he watched the self-declared ex-Decepticon picked up the staff once more, transforming it into a blade. Bee forced himself to sit up but grunted when a ped roughly kicked him in the chassis, knocking him back into a thick tree.

“I did offer you a choice, Autobot, but I am a gentlemech,” the blue gray Con smirked as he pulled the transforming weapon back. “Any last requests?”

“Y-Yeah… look behind you,” the yellow bot smirked.

“What?” Steeljaw never saw the other mech coming but he felt the pain as he was struck from behind with such force, he was sent flying off to the side, yelping in pain as he landed faceplates first into the ground.

The red and blue semi said nothing as he made sure to stand between the two mechs, pulling out his own Decepticon Hunter from his subspace. “Leave now, Steeljaw. I will not tell you again,” he said threateningly, energy fairly humming along the blade. Said mech growled lowly but he knew he was no match for the resurrected Prime so he took off, silently vowing revenge. Optimus watched him go, frame tense before subspacing the weapon and turned to the downed Autobot. “Bumblebee, are you alright?” he asked in great concern.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay.” He wasn’t, not really but he didn’t protest as the Prime undid the stasis cuffs, allowing him the use of his servos. The yellow mech made to stand, pushing off from the ground but dropped back to the ground with a pained hiss, servos immediately grabbing at his stabilizer. He heard a worried shout but he could only stare as his servos were removed, staring at the energon staining them. “Oh scrap,” he cursed to himself.

Optimus frowned at the torn plating and could see that a cable that supplied energon had been cut through. He searched his subspace but all he found was a cleaning cloth that he used as a makeshift bandage. He was no medic, but hopefully it would hold until they could get back to the junk yard. He looked back up at the silver faceplates but the other bot was quick to look away, looking a bit flushed. “Are you injured anywhere else?”

“No… I should be okay.” Primus, that was a close one! It was taking all his effect not to let his cooling fans activate but he could not stop thinking about how warm those charcoal gray servos felt on his torn plating. “I don’t think I’ll be able to transform.”

“Don’t. I will alert the others.” Lifting a servo to his audio, Optimus tried to get ahold of anyone else but all he was meet with was static. Standing he tried again but there was still nothing but static on the other line. “I am afraid I am unable to get a comm out to the others. We will have to walk back to the junk yard on our own.”

“With Steeljaw out there, we’ll have to be even more careful.” Once more Bumblebee forced himself to get up, the tree groaning as he used it as leverage as he stood to his full height. His self-repair was already trying to work on his injury but that didn’t stop him from taking a step forward. His stabilizer held up for a few kliks before he took another step and pain flared across his sensory network. With a pain cry the Autobot found himself falling forward, cursing himself but instead of kissing the ground he found himself held against a warm and familiar chassis.

Optimus reacted without thinking and wordlessly caught the other mech, holding him close even as he managed to regain his balance. He didn’t have to ask if he was fine as he noticed that the make-shift bandage he had applied was becoming darker; instead, he settled one of the arms over the back of his neck cables and slid his servo around his waist, holding him close. “Come, we must find somewhere to safe until we are able to contact the others.”

“R… right.” It was taking all of Bee’s processing power to not only keeping his cooling fans from kicking on, but to keep the energon from rushing to his faceplates. The servo was larger than his own, warm, firm enough that he didn’t stumble but gentle enough that the digits weren’t digging into his plating to keep him up. It was—comforting. As the two walked off he failed to realize his Decepticon Hunter was still missing.

The two mechs continued walking through the woods but they were unable to take the main road that headed back to the junk yard, and to avoid being seen by the humans Optimus suggested they find a place until it was dark enough to travel, or until the others could find them. Bumblebee didn’t like either idea but being injured he was limited on choices as well. They stopped at another clearing and Bumblebee was glad to be sitting and watched as Optimus once more knelt before him, checking the temporarily bandage. “Wonder what Ratchet would say if he saw you doing this,” he commented off-handedly.

“I’m certain he would mention that I am doing something incorrectly,” he answered but there was a slight smile on his faceplates. “I do not have the necessary tools to fully repair your stabilizer, which is why we must find a place so your systems can rest.”

“But we don’t have sit to sit around and wait for rescue to come. Optimus, Steeljaw is out there and he won’t stop until we’re both offlined.” Speaking of which, he rummaged in his subspace for his own Decepticon Hunter but looked around worriedly when he realized he no longer had it. “And now I lost my own weapon. Oh, this is just great. What else can possibly go wrong?” High above the darkened clouds let out a loud rumble, causing both mechs to look up just in time to watch the rain began to fall, rapidly soaking the area and both of them. “… scrap.”

“… I believe I noticed a shelter until the rain has stopped.” The Prime made to help the other mech up but already in a bad mood, the lieutenant got up on his own and began walking in the direction they had been heading, only slightly limping. It had gotten dark rapidly, making it difficult to see what lay before them but the two mechs refused to use their headlights just in case there were any humans out in this weather. They found a cave that seemed small to them but it was empty and dry on the inside so they entered. Once more they tried using their comm but there were still bursts of static that kept them from reaching the others. Bumblebee eased himself so he was sitting, looking down at his stabilizer stretched out in front of him. It didn’t hurt as much as it did earlier, but as he pulled up his fluid levels, he was dismayed to realize his energon levels were lower than he would have liked. Venting to himself he let his helm fall back and offlined his optics.

Optimus Prime was watching the younger mech, watching him move and seeing the way he would push himself despite being injured. Part of him want to ask him if he was alright, if he needed anything but now he felt him pushing him away, just like earlier at the junk yard. He wasn’t sure what he had done but when he tried to ask him the former scout would abruptly leave for joors at a time. Now, he had no choice but to answer his questions.

“Bumblebee, what is wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He did not need this right now; if he ignored the Prime, maybe he would just leave him alone. That wasn’t the case.

“Something is troubling you, but each time I try to speak with you you leave, just as you did this morning.”

“I told you, I had patrols to run.”

“I was under the impression that it was Sideswipe’s patrol this morning-”

“So, what if it was?!” he snapped angrily. “At least this way I knew the patrol would be done right and not have to worry about him slacking off.” Leaning back, he crossed his servos across his chassis.

“I only wish to understand what is happening. Ever since I came back you have been avoiding me; if I have done anything to upset you, then I deeply apologize. Bumblebee…” The Prime moved silently as he moved closer, slowly reaching out and resting his large servo atop his shoulder. “I wish you would tell me what is troubling you.”

“… I’m fine.”

“But-”

“Look, I’m fine! I’ve been fine these past five years you were gone! I made a name for myself on Cybertron, I got a team of my own to lead, and I did ask for your help but I still did it! Me! All alone! Without everybot else. Without… you…” During his angry tirade the yellow mech had forced himself up onto his peds, staring angrily at the larger mech, venting his anger at him for being left alone but once it had run its course, he felt a surge of deep regret and shame. It grew when he saw the confused and hurt look in Optimus’ blue optics. Bee knew it wasn’t fair to him, but… it still hurt.

Optimus was stunned; the younger mech had never yelled at him before, or been so angry at him. He made to reach out to him, to ask him what was wrong but instead he turned and ran out of the cave and into the rain, limping slightly. “Bumblebee!” he called out but the darkness swallowed him completely. For once in a very long time, the Prime was at a loss but as he let his servo drop, he quickly came to a conclusion. He was going to speak with Bumblebee and find out what was wrong with him and he would not stop until he found out what was wrong with him.

* * *

The brightly colored Autobot knew this was a bad idea, but he had to get away from the Prime. Turning on his low beams Bumblebee managed to keep from tripping over anything, ignoring the stinging pain of his stabilizer. Why on Cybertron couldn’t he just tell the Prime how he felt? What did he have to lose?

_‘Everything! I mean, nothing! I mean—I don’t even know if he even feels the same way and if he did, he won’t admit it. I-!’_ He slowed to a stop, ignoring the mud as it seemed into the gaps of his plating and vented deeply, letting his optics close. “… I’m nothing. I thought things would be better if he were back, but… maybe, I’m not enough…” That idea seemed to hurt the most and he hated it. A flash of lightning split the sky, briefly illuminating the area, revealing another frame coming up behind him.

Steeljaw was tired of this infernal Autobot getting in his way, of keeping him from what he rightfully deserved. This primitive planet was a far cry from Cybertron, but it was an ideal place and the sooner he eliminated the annoying bots, the others would see that he was right and would have him as their rightful leader. Holding the Decepticon Hunter tightly in his servo he pulled back, ready to drive it into the lieutenant’s back plates just as another bolt of lightning split the sky.

Bright blue optics widen at the feel of the hostile field behind him, a filed he knew dd not belong to anyone he knew. After many vorns of war, battle instincts kicked on and he stepped to the side, catching the spear as it attempted to stab him in the backplates. He tried throwing the Decepticon off but the rain made the ground especially muddy and he ended up falling, taking the other mech along with him. it didn’t stop him from fight as he tried pulling the transforming weapon from the snarling bot.

“Give it up, Steeljaw! You won’t get away with this!” he grunted, wishing he had the sense to keep his blaster on him.

“Not this time, lieutenant!” Seeing the make-shift bandage the mech smirked, and kicked to the injury as hard as he could. Bumblebee let out a cry, stabilizer buckling under him; he dropped to a knee in the mud but refused to let go of the weapon. “You have lost, this world will soon belong to me and the others will have me as their leader! Not even your Prime will be able to stop me!” he snarled angrily.

“H-He won’t have to stop you… but I will!!” Digging his peds into the mud, Bumblebee pushed himself up and pushed at the blue-gray mech as hard as he could, forcing him back but he also focused his processor on the Decepticon Hunter they were still fighting over. The weapon gave off sparks, transforming into several different types, the bright blue energy shining brightly. But it also acted like a beacon as the lightning seemed to strike closer to their location, starting small fire until soon, a bolt came down and struck the weapon with such a charge it seemed to set out a small explosion.

Battling the winds and rain, Windblade was trying to find any sign of the two missing Autobots when she noticed the explosion. Her scanners were reading Cybertronium life signals down there, but her fears were growing when she detected that one of the signals was considerably weaker than the other. She immediately sent a comm to the others about the explosion and flew in closer.

Optimus has also seen the lightning strike and was racing to the scene as fast as he could, worry making his spark race painfully in his chassis. Skidding in the mud the Prime didn’t hesitate to transform, running the rest of the way but when he reached the clearing, he slowed down long enough to access the damage. The small fires caused by the sudden lightning strikes were being quelled by the rain before they could spread, dampening them out but in center was a small crater where there had clearly been an explosion, a scorched, metal frame off to one side, still clutching a sparking staff. Despite the rain and darkness, the semi could make out bright yellow plating and immediately rushed towards it, dropping to his joints and reached out.

“Bumblebee,” he called out quietly, carefully rolling the other mech onto his backplates. Both servos were badly scorched, most of the protective plating having been blasted off to revel severely burned protoflesh, but he was clearly offlined. Frowning Optimus reached down, placing his servo on the cracked chassis but he was worried when he realized he could barely feel the pulse of his spark. Oh Bumblebee…” No, no he could not lose him, not when he had just come back!

“Optimus!!” A red jet flew in low before the sounds of gears turning, plating folded back to reveal a femme as she dropped out of the air and ran towards them. She was about to express how glad she had been able to find him but seeing the heavily damaged state that Bumblebee was in made her immediately fear the worse. “What happened?” she asked, immediately dropping in front of him, looking around in awed confusion. “Was he fighting a Decepticon?”

“Windblade. Contact the others and alert them to our situation,” Optimus quietly ordered, not once looking up at the femme even as he held the other mech close.

“… Got it.” Getting to her peds she back up before jumping into the air and transformed, sending out a high priority to the others that she had found their missing comrades but they needed help immediately. The femme never left the area though, hovering in the air and keep an optic out for the two, willing the yellow mech not to offline just yet.

* * *

The last thing Bumblebee remembered was a powerful surge of electricity surging through ever circuit in his frame, the immense pain of his servos as he forced himself to continue holding onto his weapon, warnings nearly blinding him as they filled his HUD, but there were also the sensations of being held to a warm chassis, large servos holding him close, a vocalizer begging him to remain online.

_‘… what, the slag happened… to me…?’_ He tried accessing his back-up files but his systems were running a complete diagnostic scan right now. He didn’t realize he had let out a low groan until he felt something brush over his servo gently.

“Rest bumblebee, you are safe now.”

_‘Wait… i-is that…’_ But he couldn’t fight out the command to recharge and drifted into the darkness once more. The last thing he remembered was the feel of a servo squeezing his own, and how he wished he could squeeze it back just as tightly.

The red and blue mech watched the smaller mech fall back into a deep recharge, knowing it would take some time to finish but at least he knew he would not offline anytime soon. Wishing he could do more he reluctantly removed his servo and sat back down in his seat. The others came by to check on them, glad to hear that he would be okay and were reassured that the Prime would alert them to once the lieutenant would be at 100%. A megacycle later the monitors that were hooked up to Bumblebee flashed green, indicating that scans were complete and there were no more errors to report. Optimus silently stood as heard the yellow mech’s systems give a low hum, optics slowly onlining as they tried focusing on him.

“… Optimus…?” The Prime was here and it made Bee smile but he moved slowly as he carefully sat up, aware of cables plugged into his medical ports. “What, happened?” he asked even as he reached out and began to unplug them.

“I am not certain myself, I witnessed an explosion and when I went to investigate, I found you offlined, with your Decepticon Hunter clutched tightly in your servo,” Optimus explained as he watched him.

“What?” Back-up files opened and Bumblebee suddenly remembered everything: fighting Steeljaw in the middle of a fierce thunder storm, a sudden bolt of lighting hitting said weapon and nearly frying out his system, yelling at Optimus- “Steeljaw, took my weapon and tried to destroy me with it. We fought and I think the weapon’s charge attracted the storm and we got caught up in it. But I have no idea who I ended up here,” he concluded and looked around at the familiar piles of “antiques” on all sides. “Are we back in the junk yard?”

“Windblade also noticed the explosion and was the one who found us. After she commed the others to our location we were brought back to Denny Clay’s home and Fix-It managed to repair your damage. You have been in medical stasis for over a full solar cycle.”

Bumblebee shuddered his optics and silently looked down at his servos. The plating looked freshly repaired and he could make out miniscule weld marks here and there. His digits seemed stiff as he flexed them but he vented softly as he remembered the harsh words he had told Optimus in anger before his second encounter with the rogue Con. “…”

Once more, the larger mech could see something was wrong but he didn’t want to risk driving the smaller mech off, especially since their last exchange had led to him being badly injured when it could have easily been prevented. “I will let you get some more rest-”

“Optimus, wait. I-I have something to tell you, but-but I just want you to listen until I’m done.” Glancing up at his former commanding office, Bumblebee watched him sit and stared down at her healed servos once more. “I have admired you for so long, when I first joined the Autobots you welcomed me with open servos and taught me things that made me a better soldier. I would follow you anywhere, and then I was captured by Megatron at Tyger Pax…” He trailed off as he reached up to touch the front of his neck cables, never able to forget the pain of having his voice box forcefully removed. “… but, I knew I could never betray you. You were trying to bring peace back to Cybertron, and I knew that if I could help you achieve that it would be worth any sacrifice I could give.”

“Bumble”-

“Please, just-let me finish!” Waiting for the Prime to fall silent he continued. “Next time I knew we’re landing here on a primitive planet teeming with life, we became friends with some of the locals and you even appointed Bulkhead, Arcee, and myself as guardians to those three… so much has happened, getting offlined by Megatron only for me to com back and offline him… battling Unicron… watching you sacrifice yourself to restore Cybertron…” His servos tightened into fists, gears straining but he could feel his resolve weakening and knew if he didn’t tell him now, he would never be able to. “I love you, Optimus. Not just you’re a Prime or the bot that saved Cybertron, but because of you. And I know that you didn’t want to leave, but you made the ultimate sacrifice so we could all have a future. I… I was so happy that you came back to me, I mean us, back here on Earth… its like it was before but I thought I could just forget my feelings but I can’t and I understand if you don’t feel the same and I promise, I’ll never mention this to anyone and-“ but before he could continue with his apology he froze when he saw servos holding his own, cradling them warmly. Bee was startled when he felt a servo reached up, tilting his faceplates up he didn’t think Optimus look any more handsome then when he smiled at him. it took a few kliks but he managed to find his vocalizer once more. “O-Optimus… does, that mean…?”

“Yes, though I wish you had come to me sooner,” he spoke softly, digits gently stroking the faceplates, warmth filling his spark as the smaller mech leaned into the touch, doorwings twitching silently. He had been denying his own feelings for such a long time, not wanting to take advantage of the younger mech but knowing he felt the same he wanted to know more, to finally realize what it was he had been missing for all these vorns. The two began leaning towards each other, wanting nothing more than to celebrate their feelings for one another-

Heavy ped steps were heard as two bots entered the area, no doubt in the middle of a heated argument but upon seeing that their team leader was awake and alert, their argument was forgotten and both rushed forward, shoving at the other so they could be the first one to reach the recovered mech. Optimus was forced back as both Strongarm and Sideswipe reached him at the same time, nearly knocking him off the berth.

“Lieutenant, you’re alright!!”

“Bumblebee, you’re back!! Please tell me Strongarm isn’t in charge??”

“Optimus Prime said you were awake and that we should wait until morning to see you but I just had to fill you in on what you missed-”

“You mean nag him. Seriously, Bee, Strongarm can’t tell me what to do! Right??”

“Hey! If you had done your patrols like you were suppose too, he wouldn’t be here!”

“Yeah, well, all you do is nag and complain! You wouldn’t know fun if it landed on top of you!”

Bumblebee groaned lowly, reaching up to hold his helm in his servo as the two continued bickering like a pair of sparklings. This was one thing he had not expected but he looked up when he felt a servo gently rub at his shoulder. Optimus was still smiling and he found himself smiling back.

Assuring the two bots that Bumblebee was alright and he needed some rest, Optimus walked with the yellow mech to the far side of the salvage yard, not wanting their conversation to end. It soon found the two of them at the cliff where Bee once sat, contemplating his feelings for the Prime. It still gave them a lovely view of the base of operations and they could see the lights of Crown City on the other side of the river, but like before they found themselves leaning towards one another. This time, though, there were no interruptions as their lips meet together in a kiss.

Bee moaned softly as he was kissed, wondering once more if this was just a wild dream but there were never this good and his own touches never made him feel this warm before. “Optimus…” he moaned lowly as those large servos firmly stroked his sides, digits rubbing at his transformation seams as he was pulled closer into the other mech’s chassis.

“I’m sorry for hurting you, Bumblebee. That was never my intention,” the red and blue mech murmured softly, kissing at the neck cables with a loving touch as his servos tightened around him. “Allow me to show you how much I missed you.”

“Please yes!” Bee felt his faceplates heat up at the low chuckle from his soon-to-be-lover. He let out a moan as he felt servos once more slid down his sides, dimly aware that he was being backed up he found that they were in the small alcove that had been carved into the mountainside, the rocky floor cool against his backplates. He wanted to ask what Optimus what he was doing but all he could manage were soft gasps of surprise and more moans of pleasure as kiss kissed at his plating, sensual licks of a glossia tracing transformation seams, nimble digits gripping the back of his stabilizers as a heavy yet warm frame settled between them. Surprised, servos reached out to grip onto the broad red shoulders, blush increasing as the mouth moved lower down his frame. He had an idea of what was going to happen, but shouldn’t _he_ be doing _that_ to _him?_ He tried to ask him but cried out as he was caressed in the one place he had longed for in a very long time.

Darkened by lust, blue optics gazed up at the former scout and pressed a kiss to the protective panel. Once more he felt doubt enter his processor, that Bumblebee didn’t feel the same way he did, this he felt obligated to him, but looking up at him, remembering his confession; he vented softly as a servo slid from his shoulder and lovingly stroked the side of his faceplates, smiling down at him. No, he wanted it as much as he did and the Prime was determined to prove it to him.

Lip plates continued to caress the warm metal, a slick glossia slipping out to trace the almost invisible seams, silently asking to be opened. It didn’t take much for the protective plates to open, revealing the mech’s interface array. The tip of the spike was just beginning to merge from its housing, but servos easily spread the stabilizers apart and the larger mech moaned at the sight of the glistening valve that lay bared before him. “Beautiful,” he murmured softly, sliding a servo down to trace the rim and watched as the hips pushed into his touch, a keening cry reaching his audios. He knew what he wanted without saying anything but he did not to rush this for either of them so Optimus continued to gently trace the rim and the slit of the opening, watching the lubricant build, he groaned as he oh-so gently, pushed a digit past the slick folds and into the tight heat. He tightened his hold over the stabilizer he still held as the hips jerked, bucking for more. It was such a beautiful sight, watching the way the valve wrapped around his digit, after a bit he pulled it out only to push in two, scissoring them inside, groaning at the low cry his lover let out.

Oh, sweet Solus Prime, this-this was good! So much better than using his own digits. Bee knew he couldn’t get too loud but he didn’t care as he pushed into the digits with each gentle thrust. His servo shook as he tried pulling the blue helm down, tried to voice what he wanted but his processor seemed to have froze so instead he tried to show him what he wanted even as the digits slowly withdrew but he nearly purred in satisfaction as three broad digits pushed in, opening him more and spread open wide, making his sensory network sing but what made him arch his backstrut was the firm lick of a hot, wet glossia over his anterior node. Bumblebee hissed sharply, his lover’s designation escaping from behind tightly clenched denta as his servo stroked the back of the blue helm, clutching him close; the heat was so hot his systems were already trying to expel the hot air in an attempt to cool him down, he failed to realize his spike had pressurized when a warm servo wrapped around it and began stroking it with a  firm grip, a digit rubbing at the tip. “Aah… Op-Optimus!” he cried out, gripping the helm with both servos, hips trying to buck into the pleasure without pulling away.

The Prime’s moan rumbled deeply within his chassis, the vibrations passed onto his lover which caused him to cry out again as he continued to lick and suck at the highly sensitive node, enjoying the sweet sounds he made. His own spike was aching to be set free, the latches groaning from the strain but he wanted to please him first, to see what he looked like in the throes of an overload. Giving the node a final lick, Optimus lifted his helm even as his servos kept moving, optics roving the brightly colored frame as it arched beneath his touch. _‘Beautiful,’_ he thought to himself as he curled the digits within the tightening valve, letting out another groan as the mech cried out, bucking his hips harder into his touch. “Overload for me, Bumblebee… I want to watch you overload by my servo,” he rumbled deeply, leaning over the condensation-soaked form.

The muscle car was a panting mess, systems resetting as his cooling fans failed to keep him properly cooled but he didn’t care. He could feel the painful charge building up inside him, systems warning of internal damage if he didn’t release it but as Optimus’ words penetrated the pleasure-induced haze he flushed in desire. “Aah! Op… Op-timus, I-!!” Bee let out a keening cry as more lubricant and transfluid leaked out, staining the Prime’s servos and the inside of his stabilizers, but he wanted the both of them to overload together in a glorious explosion. Once more he tried to tell him what he wanted, even if it was through a comm but he cried out as the servo on his spike began to stroke faster, digits tightening The charge was so hot, transfluid leaking even more, making him cry out louder, desperate to hold it back but it was no use as he overloaded prematurely, coating not only the Prime’s servo but their chassis as well, frame trembling slightly. He was dimly aware of his spike retreating back into its housing, or of his valve trying to keep the digits pulling out. Servos slid under his frame he had to shudder his optics when he saw that he was now laying on his chassis and those same servos were now lifting his aft into the air and a hot frame pressed into him. “… op-timus…?” he panted, looking at him over a trembling doorwing.

“Bumblebee, I… I cannot hold it back—any longer,” he groaned into his audio, rubbing his heavily pressurized spike against the dripping valve as a servo stroked a lean stabilizer. “However, I will stop if, you do not wish to continue…” At this point he wasn’t sure he would be able to stop but he had to ask, had to be sure this is what he wanted.

It was do or die, if Bee chose to continued things would never be able to go back to the way it used to be, but wasn’t this what he had always wanted? Not just to be seen as the Prime’s equal, but as someone worthy enough for his love. Instead of answering with words he reached down, optics widening as he realized how large the spike was but it made him burn with arousal at the data processor of having something that large pounding in his valve. Lowering his helm to the ground raised his aft up a little bit more, but he moaned lowly as he guided the thick cable so it gently pushed past the rim and began to slid in deeper.

The two mechs let out a low moan as the spike continued to oh-so slowly push into the still very tight valve, the lubricant and transfluid making it easier but it was reaching much further than the digits could ever reach, stretching the valve. Bee keen in slight discomfort, digging his digits into the ground as a way to distract himself but he panicked when he felt the spike begin to pull back. Thinking Optimus was going to leave him he thrust his hips back as hard as he could, taking the entire length inside so fast, the sharp sting of losing his seal overrode the pleasure and he couldn’t help but lock up in pain. It hurt, not as much as fighting Decepticons and a lot less when he had his T-cog stolen, but still!

By the Thirteen Primes! The valve has closed around him so tightly, surrounding him with a wet heat, it took all of Optimus’ strength not to overload right now inside of such perfection. Servos shook as they tried not to crush the trembling hips, a mix of pleasure and pain dancing over his sensors but he was also aware that the smaller mech was trembling beneath him. “Bum-ahh… Bumblebee… please, relax,” he murmured, stroking his side but he continued to tremble, whimpering softly. Venting softly, he lowered his lip plates by his audio and spoke in a gentle tone, “I was not going to leave you, I wanted to wait for you to adjust. Please, forgive me.” He softly kissed his audio, revving his engine.

Oh. Well, that made sense. The lieutenant tried to force his systems to unlock, to relax but it wasn’t helping. The servo stroking his sides and the gentle rumble of the larger mech’s gentle against his backplates were and his trembling soon ceased, valve loosening ever-so-slightly around the massive intrusion. Optimus still didn’t move but he didn’t pull away, was he waiting for him to say something? Bee had to smile; who say anything when instead he could show him? Slowly, he rocked his hips forward, swallowing the hiss as he pulled off the spike but he then pushed back and couldn’t help but allow the soft cry escape as he was once more filled. Oh, that was good. Real good! His hips continued to slowly pull out until only the tip remained then pushed back, crying out each time, panting softly as pleasure once more surged through his system.

The red and blue mech let out an appreciative moan as the smaller mech began moving, savoring the feel of the valve as it closed around him and tightened with each thrust. He had not wanted to hurt him, he hadn’t known he was still sealed, but he was still determined to show him as much pleasure as he could and began to thrust each time he pushed back, enjoying the sound of his cries as they grew in pitch. The pace was slow and steady, the mechs enjoying the sensations coursing over their network but as Optimus shifted his spike pushed in at a new angle and a particular node was jabbed, lighting up Bumblebee’s sensors and increasing his charge by ten-folds. Yellow frame tensed as the yellow mech cried out, lubricant rapidly filling his stuffed valve. The semi stopped, thinking he had hurt his smaller lover but a servo reached out blindly and grabbed at his hip, digging into the gaps almost painfully. “Bu-”

“F-Frag me, Optimus!” he cried out, doorwings trembling as he ground his aft back into him shamelessly, desperately trying to get the spike to strike the node once more. “Please, I-I need it!” It was quiet save for his pitiful whimpers but the hip jerked and he cried out louder as the spike once more jabbed at that one node. “ _Yes!!_ Right there!!” Another powerful thrust and he let out a warble of pleasure, purring as the servos tighten around his hips, denting plating and slammed into him harder with each thrust. Bumblebee bit down in his fist in a vain effort to keep his cries down but he didn’t care if anyone heard him, he just didn’t want it to stop. A servo slid around his chassis, mercilessly stroking some of his more sensitive spots his cries were becoming increasingly frantic, valve tingling as all his nodes were being pounded into.

Never had he seen anything so beautiful as he continued to thrust into the smaller mech beneath him, the way he pushed back for more, his sweet cries begging for more, even the way his doorwings fluttered against his chassis. Leaning down Optimus licked at the edge of one of the wings and nipped it, groaning at the sharp warble of pleasure he let out so he continued, grunting as he continued to slam into him, burying his spike as deeply as he could into his deliciously tight valve. The both of them lost track of time, desperate to reach an overload, their charges were so strong it threatened to fry their systems but they didn’t care. A charcoal gray servo slid around the slender waist, moving between the widely spread stabilizers, enjoying the feel of the valve’s fold wrapped so tightly around the thrusting spike, longing to see it but the questioning digits encountered the very swollen anterior node and rubbed it firmly.

Dark blue optics widen and Bee’s backstrut arched, derma falling open to release a silent scream as he reached his peak and reached an explosive overload. Lubricant flooded his valve, making it swell in an effort to keep it in but he trembled and let out a weak cry as the spike swelled and shot scaling hot transfluid directly into his tank. It was so much it filled almost instantly but his valve swelled to try and contain all the fluids, causing his frame to swell slightly. Trembling the Camaro slowly dropped back onto his chassis, panting heavily in an effort to cool his system off and whimpering as his lover continued to grind against him, grunting softly.

Soon the larger frame stilled, servos slid to the slender hips, and with a soft apology, pulled back. There was an audible wet popping sound as the spike pulled free, releasing a dirty cocktail of their combined fluids. The valve tried clamping on thin air, unintentional forcing more fluids out but Optimus watched it and wondered how it tasted. He was taken from his fantasy when he heard a low groan and reached out to help turn his former scout to lay on his backplates, reaching down to gently stroke a very flushed cheek ridge. “Are you alright?” he asked softly, barely aware of just how hard his own system was running.

Bee smiled and reached up to cover the servo, nodding slowly. “Wonderful. Optimus… I love you. Always have, always will.”

The Prime smiled and leaned down to kiss him softly, feeling his spark swell at his declaration. “I love you, Bumblebee. And I am sorry for hurting you but never again will I leave you.”

“Just promise me you’ll come back, or I go with you.”

“Promise.” Leaning down the former commander kissed his scout, but despite feeling completely drained he was determined to tasted the combination of their fluids, as well as make sure he didn’t hurt his precious loved one.

It felt good to be with him once more.

**Author’s Notes:** Another chapter done and this one is going out to Wolfsonic. This one was slightly easier to write (kinda) but as I mentioned this is one of my favorite pairings. I tried to make this chapter more fluff and romantic, and I think I did an okay job but you tell me!

Once more I am so sorry for making everyone wait. I’m doing a lot better and work is okay, and I’m working on the other chapters so please bear with me as I continue to go through the requests. I’m still open to pairings and idea so if you think of anyone else, tell me!

I’m going to head to bed so I hope you enjoy this and pleasant dreams, everyone!


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